


The Lightest Touch

by heartbeat_skipping



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Draco pov, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hermione POV, Idiots in Love, Jealous Draco Malfoy, Library Sex, Mutual Pining, Post-War, Praise Kink, Sexual Tension, Smut, Spin the Bottle, hermione is bad at flirting, i'm a bit mean to Ron :(, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbeat_skipping/pseuds/heartbeat_skipping
Summary: Hermione and Draco start to spend time with each other at the library - and as the weeks go by, it becomes impossible for them to ignore their intense attraction to each other. But Draco has never opened up before to someone like this emotionally and is scared, and Hermione is pretty inexperienced when it comes to sex. Will they ever make it work between them, what with their current differences and their pained past?“How do I put this plainly? I want a deep romantic connection with someone, and Malfoy just wants a quick fuck. I would hardly call that compatible.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 56
Kudos: 170





	1. Ever Heard Of Knocking?

Hermione was sitting on the plush armchair in her room when she decided, finally, that she needed to break up with Ron. She had been mulling over this for days, re-evaluating the details of their relationship. What they had, had been so _good_ at first, something Hermione had only ever dreamed of. But it had been her first time in a serious relationship, and over the years they’d been together, they’d both changed so much.

The war was over and she was healing now - and realising her romance with Ron was not what it was before. He was sweet - and kind but she found their conversations to be awkward and stilted. As for intimacy - the sex was sweet. But she found herself wanting to be alone at night, rather than sleeping with him. Which she wasn’t sure was a good sign. She hadn’t minded Ron’s lack of adventure in the bedroom at first, but it was one thing amongst many that she felt was lacking.

She didn’t know how to tell him all this - she didn’t want to ruin something good. But was it good? Or was it just easier to stay with him then disrupt the flow of things? She think she knew the answer to that.

She envisioned him then, sitting opposite her. How would she even bring it up? She leaned forward, clearing her throat. The least she could do was practice this.

“Hi! Ron. So I was thinking. We- uh.” She couldn’t even say the words out loud, and he wasn’t even here. How was she going to do this in real life? She tried again.

“Hey, Ron can we talk?” No way, that sounded too daunting. She cleared her throat again and spoke loudly and with as much confidence as she could muster. “Ron, I think I want to speak about something very important. You know that I have always treasured your-”

The door slammed open. Hermione nearly jumped out of her seat. She’d been so deep in thought and rehearsing how to break up with Ron she hadn’t heard the footsteps of... Draco Malfoy?

“Malfoy,” she said, breathless. “Ever heard of knocking?”

He smirked, “No.”

After the war, many things had changed. Namely, her relationship with Malfoy had gone from bitter to an easy alliance. They helped each other out whenever needed, and generally got along. It was hard to still hate him when he’d clearly changed, and it was easier to be friends than pretend to be angry towards him.

“Am I interrupting something?” He folded his arms over his chest, leaning lazily against the doorframe, his eyes trained on her.

Hermione blushed, knowing he had heard her.

She tried not to think about how tall and handsome he looked then, leaning against her door, with that look on his face. The kind of look that made her question whether she wanted to punch him, or kiss him. And that was another thing that had changed after the war. She had started to find Draco Malfoy, her previous arch-nemesis, handsome. Nowadays, she found herself staring at his chiselled face, his wonderful eyes, and those beautiful big hands of his. Draco Malfoy was a man now - and it was very, very hard not to notice.

Trying to hide the pink in her cheeks, she spoke. “Sorry, I was just uh-” Merlin, this was the first time she was going to mention it to someone out loud. “Practicing how I’m going to break up with Ron.” She hoped he didn’t hear the tremor in her voice - she would not appear weak in the presence of Malfoy.

She could’ve sworn something dark flashed in Draco’s eyes as soon as the words left her mouth, but in a moment it was gone and replaced by his usual firm stare.

“Oh,” he said.

There was a pause.

“Granger,” he said, finally, his voice full of concern. He crossed the room in two quick strides. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat next to her on the bed, leaving only a little space between them.

Hermione hoped he didn’t hear her sharp intake of breath at his sudden closeness.

“But you’ve been dating for a long time now. What happened? Did he hurt you?”

Hermione gave a weak laugh, not meeting his eyes. “No, he didn't do anything wrong. I just don’t feel there’s anything romantic between us, that’s all.” She shrugged, to show that this didn’t affect her, but the truth was, that it did.

“He’s a good guy, Granger. Are you sure about this?”

Hermione’s cheeks heated, suddenly annoyed. She’d been thinking about this for a long time - and surely he knew she wasn’t one to make rash decisions.

“I wouldn’t be breaking up with him if I wasn’t sure, Malfoy. Believe it or not, I know what I’m doing. There’s just...so many things lacking in our relationship?”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “Could you give any examples?”

“Like…” Hermione waved her hands out in the air. “Like loads of things. Like he’s sweet but he doesn’t really try and invest time in our relationship but, well, neither do I. Like we’ haven’t been on a date in god knows how long. Like how he spends more time with Harry than me. I mean I’m not saying he’s not allowed to have friendships but as his girlfriend, I think I deserve well...a little more attention. And like, the sex is so utterly boring I think I might lose my mind.”

Hermione paused. Inwardly, she was reeling over the fact that she had casually mentioned her sex life with Ron to of all people, Draco _Fucking_ Malfoy. But she wasn’t going to let him know she was flustered by that. She looked to Draco, a determined expression on her face, curious to see his expression. She wasn’t going to show that she was embarrassed about talking about sex - she was Hermione Granger for god’s sake.

He didn’t look back at her, instead, staring at a spot in front of them, in the distance. She realised the weird intimacy of the moment - them sitting together on her bed in her room talking about her breakup. She felt so vulnerable at that moment, and her terror increased when Malfoy still didn’t say anything. Her resolve faded and she quickly looked away. Her face was red, and she bit her lip.

“Uh god- Uhm. I’m so sorry, I did not mean to- God, I’m so sorry. You don’t want to hear all this.”

Draco seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he’d been having and chuckled. Hermione’s heart did a funny thing at the sound - but she ignored it, desperate to hear what he would say.

“Granger, I didn’t mean to insinuate you don't know what you’re doing with Ron. You’re the smartest witch I know. And I genuinely support your decision if this is going to make you happiest. And I- well, I appreciate that you trust me enough to tell me all this. Considering you know, how we were before.”

Hermione didn’t like to think about Draco before The War - but it didn’t mean she _didn’_ t think about it. She knew things were still a little delicate between them because of that - but she truly thought he had changed - and had decided not to hold his past against him.

Hermione turned to face him, smiling at the words that had left him. "Well,” she said teasingly “I’m not sure I entirely trust you. Not just yet.”

He flashed a grin at her. “And why's that, Granger?”

"Well," she exclaimed brazenly, "I never trust a handsome face."

Draco's eyes darted towards her lips. "Is that so?" he said. Hermione was glad he couldn't hear her heartbeat right now - she was terrible at flirting - she always ended up sounding too un-natural and stupid. But Malfoy hadn't laughed or made fun of her. Perhaps he hadn't even caught on that she was flirting. Maybe she was _that_ bad. Hermione didn't know what to say to that - so she let Malfoy lead the conversation.

He glanced up at her. “You sure you’re okay about this though?”

Hermione met his gaze, a solemn look in his eyes. She'd wanted to lighten the tone of the conversation but he was clearly not interested in anything romantic with her. She felt foolish. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m not sad about the breakup, Malfoy. I’m sad about how I haven’t been treated right. It all just faded away into nothingness this past year. And I know I deserve better than that.”

He looked down, and in a serious voice, muttered, “You do deserve better, Granger.” Her heart stuttered. Almost as if he was in a hurry, he checked his watch and began to rise up from the bed. “Sorry," he said, his eyes slightly panicked, "I would love to stay to chat but I’ve got somewhere to be.”

 _Too soon_ she thought. She wanted him to say, badly, but bit her lip and didn’t say anything.

At the doorway, he paused, smiled and said, “Who knows, Granger, maybe your next lover will be much better in bed.” Then he disappeared into the corridor.

Hermione flushed bright scarlet, trying not to think about Draco and sex and then having sex with Draco. Oh god, now was not the time. It was _never_ the time. She couldn’t let her thoughts about Draco stray that far. Ever.

When she had calmed down, she realised something: Draco had come to her room, without any reason at all. How strange. Had he wanted her to tell her something?

She needed to find out.


	2. Caught Red Handed

Draco Malfoy lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He kept replaying the image of Hermione’s flushed cheeks, her lip caught in her teeth, and the look in her eyes when she had said she was breaking up with Ron. In any other situation where Ron and Hermione broke up, he would tell himself not to rejoice.. Hermione seemed _happy_ about the situation herself. And if Hermione was happy, so was he. 

He scolded himself - just because she was single, didn’t mean he had a chance with her. He’d never have a chance with her - fucked up, former bully Malfoy. What kind of girl would want to be with a guy who’d done nothing but degrade and insult her for years on end? 

But still, it was nice to know that Ron’s hands wouldn’t be all over her anymore. Really fucking nice. Weasely _touching her_ \- the idea made his blood heat. Yes, he was a Slytherin and yes he was possessive as fuck. _Over a girl who will never want you? You’re pathetic._ But then his mind went back over something she’d said. _the sex is so utterly boring I think I might lose my mind._ He laughed, of course, Weasley was bad in bed. But what _did_ Hermione like in the bedroom? Just the thought of Hermione Granger and sex had him feeling heated.

He wondered what her kinks were, if she liked to be dominated, if she liked it rough or slow and sweet - or both? He wondered if he could make up for what Ron lacked in the bedroom. 

And then he was fantasizing about her - her olive, smooth skin, that hair of hers, those eyes looking into his as he- 

He needed help. 

Knowing this, he regretfully began to move his hand below his covers. Slowly, he touched himself, to the thought of her. He let his mind lead him wherever it pleased. He started to-

The door slammed open and he sat upright. His breath caught. 

There, in the doorway was...Hermione Fucking Granger?

What were the odds.

She stood timidly, in her nightclothes - an oversized hoodie, and by the looks of it, no pants. Her small legs were completely exposed, and the thought of her not having underwear on - was not helping with his situation. Which was that he’d just been masturbating about the girl who’d just barged into his bedroom without knocking. 

Just his luck.

He rubbed his eyes - for a second, hoping that he might be hallucinating a barely clothed Hermione Granger (because he was _that_ horny.) and he wouldn’t have to navigate this very awkward situation.

But nope, she was still standing there, beautiful as ever. _Since when did you decide she was beautiful?_

He blinked. 

Ensuring his blankets covered his erection, he turned awkwardly in his bed to face her. 

“Jesus, Granger. Ever heard of knocking?”

She met him with a defiant stare. She still looked a little fuzzy - the dark of the room made it hard to fully see all her features. 

“No,” she said, smirking, and mocking his reply to her earlier. 

He rolled his eyes and waited for her to say something, the hum of the dark blue room the only sound occupying the space apart from his breathing. When it became apparent that she wasn’t going to speak, he sighed. “Are you going to explain to me why you’re here in my room so late? I mean I know I’m hot as hell but I didn’t think you were the type of girl who had sex-”

Hermione squeaked. “Malfoy! That’s not-” she bit her lip - “I was _going_ to come earlier but McGonagall had me doing something for her and then Harry had asked-”

“Will you just spit it out, Granger?”

She took a breath. “Well, I just wanted to ask why you came to my room earlier. Did you have something to ask me?”

She was chewing on her lip, clearly nervous and he wanted to capture that moment forever in his mind. That look in her eyes, she was expectant but she looked so innocent and small. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What was she nervous about? Him? Because she found him attractive? _Wishful thinking, Malfoy_.

He opened his eyes and cleared his throat. In his rush to leave the room after he had told Hermione Granger she deserved better, he’d forgotten to tell her why he had come to her room in the first place.

“Ah yes, that. I wanted to ask you about something.’

Hermione slowly wandered over towards him, towards _his bed_. He tried to ignore his rapid heartbeat, which he was very grateful she couldn’t hear. She lingered awkwardly, swaying on her feet. His eyes drifted to her bare legs.

“Well,” he said, tearing his gaze back up to her face. “McGonnogal has given me the task to go through the Hogwarts Library Archives and sort through everything there. I know you love libraries, and so I figured-” He faltered, he’d immediately assumed she’d say yes and now he was beginning to doubt himself. “I mean you don’t have to-we’d have to spend a lot of time together-”

“Malfoy _shut up_!” She put her hand over her mouth. Even in the dim light of the room, he saw Hermione’s eyes spark up. “I didn’t mean- what I _mean_ is - Yes! _Yes!_ ” she squealed. “Oh yes! This is - Malfoy, I can’t thank you enough. I’d love to!”

“Great,” he smiled, slightly speechless at how his heart expanded at the sight of her so happy. 

He wanted to make her that happy all the time. 

“It’s every Saturday from morning until lunch that she wants me- us to do them. Does that work?”

She chewed on her lip and Draco did everything to not look at her then. Her messy curls and her bare legs. He was still half-hard from his thoughts before and her being here did not help, and in those clothes. Merlin, he needed help.

“Yes, I think that works.”

“Great,” he said, again, clueless as to what else to say. How did she manage to take all the words from his mouth?

She beamed. “I’ll see you Saturday then.” 

As she left, and as he sunk back into his bed, he called after her.

”Next time knock Granger!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Chapter 2 - I love how Draco is such a simp for Hermione in this!! some more sexual tension coming soon, promise. and pls let me know what you think x


	3. Kiss On The Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His flawless skin.
> 
> His dark, intense eyes.
> 
> The line of his jaw.
> 
> The sweep of his silver hair.
> 
> The smirk of his inviting, delicious-looking mouth.
> 
> She looked away. Merlin, she wouldn’t survive a kiss from him. She felt weak just at the thought.

They were in the common room when Pansy decided they should play spin the bottle. Hermione’s break up with Ron had surprisingly gone down well - and though things felt awkward between them, the friendship group had been warm and understanding. They sat in the circle - all ten of them - when it was Hermione’s turn to spin the bottle, it landed on Theo.

Pansy giggled. “I dare you to kiss Theo. On the lips.”

Hermione squirmed. She had a thing with kisses that she wasn’t sure she wanted to explain. “But I- Can’t I do the truth instead?”

“Oh come on ‘Mione. It's just a kiss.”   
“I’ll do a kiss on the cheek then.”

Pansy grumbled. “Fine.”

Hermione crawled over to Theo, and she leaned in.

It was at that exact moment that Malfoy walked in, his eyes immediately glueing on the scene in front of him. His eyes locked with Hermione's. Her heart stopped in her chest at the sight of him, her mouth inches away from another boy's face, her lips wet and her eyes wide. Hermione, not backing out now, leaned in closer and pecked Theo on the cheek, all while sustaining heated eye contact with Draco who seemed to be studying her like a book. Then, abruptly, she pulled back and severed her eye contact with Draco, looking determinedly at the floor. She waited for Draco to pass through - he never played games like this but instead, he came over.

“Mind if I join?” he asked. Harry gave him a puzzled look.

“Are you sure? This doesn’t seem like your type of game.”

Draco raised his eyebrows.“You’d be surprised, Potter.”

Draco sat next to Harry, and Hermione felt a little wounded that he hadn’t chosen to sit next to her. She told herself it didn’t matter, and well, at least, he was in her direct eye line meaning she could stare at him. Not that she was going to stare at him, but still.

“Well since you’ve just joined, spin the bottle Draco.” Pansy swept her hair behind her shoulders.

Draco gulped - seeming a little nervous. “What are the rules to this game anyway?”

“You spin the bottle. The group decides if we give you a truth or a kiss to the person it landed on. Whatever we think would be more interesting.” Draco’s mind latched onto the word kiss.

“Okay,” he drawled. “Sounds fair.” The bottle, obviously, had to land on Hermione. He flicked his eyes up to her and she stopped breathing.

“Truth,” Hermione immediately blurted. “We should choose a truth.”

Harry smiled, almost as if he knew something he shouldn’t. “Why so urgent Hermione?”

Even Ron seemed a little suspicious at her outburst. In fact, everyone in the circle seemed a little surprised.

“What?” Hermione said, exasperated. “Malfoy probably has a very interesting past. Don’t you want to find out about it?”

Pansy smoothed her hair down.“Actually, no. I’d rather see Malfoy kiss you.”

Hermione blushed and hoped that Draco didn’t notice.

“Me too,” Harry said, chuckling. Hermione shot a glare at Harry but he just smiled wildly at her.

“What? No. I mean- Sure. But I doubt Malfoy would agree. Right?” Draco’s eyes met hers and there was a fire in them.

For a moment, the rest of the group was drowned out all Hermione could see was the flames dancing in his eyes - his look was so intense and the breath was stolen from her lungs.

His flawless skin.

His dark, intense eyes.

The line of his jaw.

The sweep of his silver hair.

The smirk of his inviting, delicious-looking mouth.

She looked away. Merlin, she wouldn’t survive a kiss from him. She felt weak just at the thought.

“Well, Granger,” he said, running his hand through his hair, his eyes now sparkling, “I can’t really say no.” He looked at Pansy. “All right, I’ll do it.” He began to move but Hermione yelped, absolutely mortified.

“Wait! I don’t want a kiss on the mouth.”

Pansy sighed. “What is it with you and kisses?”

Hermione's face flushed a bright red. “It’s just that on the mouth kisses are very romantic to me. I don’t want that to be tainted by something fake.” She didn’t meet Draco’s eyes as she said all this, staring determinedly at Pansy instead. 

Pansy sighed. “Fine, Draco, don't kiss her on the mouth then.”

Draco didn’t seem troubled by Hermione’s request and casually walked a few paces over and before Hermione could say another word, he dropped his head to her face. His hand came to circle her neck, not touching but hovering. Hermione had assumed he was going to kiss her cheek, and her eyes fluttered close, eagerly waiting for his lips But his head dropped lower, his breath hot on her skin. And then, so slow it felt like torture, he pressed a small, gentle kiss on her neck, right below her jaw. Pleasure shot through her, quick and hot.

All too quick, his body heat was removed from her and Hermione suppressed a shiver at the absence of him so close, but she knew Draco had felt it. When she opened her eyes, she locked eyes with Draco who was still staring at her. His eyes were hot and intense. She couldn’t speak, think or even try - all she could do was stare at him. He was so beautiful. And the feeling of his lips on her skin - god, it had been a second. But.

She wanted _more._

Hermione cleared her throat and Draco slowly returned to his seat, all the while smirking. Smug bastard.

"Wow, you two should get a room. It's hot in here." she heard Harry say. She gave him an ungrateful smile in response, and for the second time that day questioned just why she was friends with Harry. 

The group continued talking and laughing but there was blood roaring in her ears - she couldn’t stop replaying the moment in her head. He’d kissed her neck. _And she’d liked it._

* * *

Draco Malfoy couldn’t stop thinking about Hermione Granger. He thought about her eyes closing before he kissed her neck, the slight shiver, the look they’d shared right afterwards. It was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful. And then he thought about how she’d said kisses were romantic for her. It made more sense to him why she’d broken up with Ron then - she wanted something real and pure. Maybe he could give her that. Merlin, he thought he just wanted to fuck her. That was it - he just wanted to fuck her.   
  
Nothing else. 

Still, he was excited about Saturday. He had never been so thankful towards McGonagall’s existence before. Now, he had a date with Hermione Granger. Well, not _exactly_ a date, but a boy could dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel this chapter is very weak and kinda poorly written - so sorry about that! let me know what you think? sorry for the slow updates - again, this is my first long fanfic and i'm still figuring out how i want to write certain things. (the spin the bottle game has weird rules but i didn't put too much thought into it?")


	4. This Is Not A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who was the last girl you slept with?”
> 
> Draco nearly choked on his drink. “Wow,” he said finally, raising his eyebrows, “why are you interested Granger? Fancy getting into my bed yourself?”

“Hermione,” Pansy said in that voice of hers, “we need to talk.”

Hermione looked up from her book. She’d settled in for the evening, two of her favourite candles already lit, and her wet hair - from her shower- lay against her pillow. She was reading up about something _very_ interesting - but of course, she couldn’t have expected zero interruptions. Pansy always had something to gossip about.

“About?”  
"Draco.”

Hermione’s breath caught - images of him flashing through her head at lightning speed.  
The dare, last night, the date at the library, his tall long frame, his hair, his eyes.

“What about him?”

“You like him.”

Hermione’s cheeks heated but she forced herself to slow her breathing down. “What makes you say that?”

“Hermione, its really, really obvious.”

She glared at Pansy. “No, it’s not.” 

“So you do like him?” 

“No! I mean, yes. But not- oh my god, I hate you, Pansy.”

“No, you don’t." Pansy grinned. "Anyways, I want to talk about it.”

“Why? I mean, I know he’s your ex and everything but-”

“Oh Granger, I’m not jealous. I’m actually ecstatic about the whole thing.”

“Ecstatic?”

“Yes, you two are literally made for each other. Everyone’s known since you punched him in the third year that the sexual tension between you two has been high. It's like you can’t decide if you want to kill him or kiss him.”  
Hermione tried not to grin. Then she shook her head at the notion.“That is absolutely _absurd_ , Pans. It's not like Malfoy would even be interested in something serious. You know his reputation.”

Draco Malfoy - the guy who could fuck any girl in the year - and would, if he wanted to. There were much, much prettier girls than Hermione that he’d slept with, and even if she did get any further with him - it would never be something real, something she wanted.

“Now, Hermione, I thought you were the smartest in our year. Surely you can’t be _this_ dense.”

“But it’s true,” Hermione murmured, feeling slightly dejected. “And plus I don't like him that much - I just think he’s attractive. I’d be a fool to say he isn’t.”

“So you’re saying you _don’t_ want to make out with him?”

“Pans! Of course, I don’t.”

Pansy raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Okay maybe just once. Just to see what it's like.”

“Trust me when I say that Malfoy is an _amazing_ kisser.”

Hermione nearly choked on air. “I did not need to know that.”

Pansy’s grin was wide. “But you did. You do. Want to know everything about him, that is. Don’t deny it, Hermione. I know your affection for him runs deeper.”

Hermione snorted. “Even if it did, I’ve already said. Malfoy hasn’t had a proper relationship with a girl since you. He just has one night stands, that’s it. And believe it or not,

I’m not particularly interested in that.”

Pansy hummed. “Are you sure? He’s also excellent in bed.”

Hermione pressed her book to her face to hide her red face. “Pansy,” she said through gritted teeth, “stop putting images in my mind.”

Pansy tore the book from Hermione’s face. “Look, I’m just trying to show you how compatible you and Draco would be.”

Hermione scoffed. “How do I put this plainly? I want a deep romantic connection with someone, and Malfoy just wants a quick fuck. I would hardly call that compatible.”

Shaking her head, Pansy took Hermione’s hands into her own. “I’m telling you now, he’s different with you. I’ve seen the way he interacts with other girls, and it's not the

same. You’re special to him Hermione. I know it.”

“Different? In the fact that I have zero sex appeal and so he doesn’t care about getting in my pants?”

“Zero sex appeal? Are you out of your mind? You’re one of the hottest girls in Hogwarts!”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat. “I-” she struggled for words. “I’m not saying I’m ugly. I just don’t think I’m exactly Draco’s sexual fantasy. You know?”

Pansy hummed. “Maybe not, but maybe if you just wore some shorter skirts-”

“I am not dressing sexually just for the chance that Malfoy will think I'm hot!”

Pansy shook her head. "I’m saying if you show you’re interested in sex in some way, then Draco’s sure to think about it. Get in his head.”

Hermione scoffed. “And even If I do - even if he wants me, it’ll never go deeper. Sex is good, but I want- I want more. You know that Pans.”

“Then get to know him. He’s not going to continue to fuck girls for the rest of his life. One day he’s going to want something serious - to settle down with a beautiful, wonderful witch. That’s going to be you.”

“Pans, you can’t possibly be serious. I’m not going to try and change Malfoy to become some loving boyfriend. I don’t think that’s who he is.”

“I’m not saying to change him, Mione. I’m saying that’s who he already he is, he’s just looking for the right witch.”

“And you think that’s me?”  
“Give him a chance. Get to know him.” Pansy’s voice was pleading. 

Hermine sighed and reluctantly began to speak. “Well, I’m going to be spending time with him every Saturday at the library.” She tried not to smile at the thought. 

Pansy squealed as Hermione explained Draco’s proposition about the library. “This is perfect! It's practically a date. Make sure to wear something scandalous. Wear a short skirt! What’s wrong with looking a little sexy?”

Hermione swatted her away. “No, no! That’s not going to happen!”

Pansy stared.

Hermione groaned. “Fine, I’ll wear a shorter skirt.”

Pansy grinned and began to crawl into her own bed. “This time you’re going to spend with him. You’ll have a chance to get to know him. And plus it's so quiet in there, a perfect place to kiss, if I do say so myself”

With that, Pansy darkened the room, leaving Hermione with the image of Draco Malfoy kissing her. 

* * *

It was Saturday - Hermione chose her outfit as she usually would but instead of going for her knee-length plaid skirts - she picked out a black tennis skirt that was dangerously short and exposed a lot of thigh. She felt ridiculous and giddy all at once - and she was transported back to when she was 14, trying to impress Krum at the Yule Ball. She didn’t hold extremely fond memories of Krum, but she did remember what it was like to want to look pretty for him. She did want to look pretty for Malfoy, and perhaps a little sexy she thought, as she applied a little makeup to her eyes. She admired herself in the mirror - her eyes looked big and sweet, the brown of them standing out against her skin. Her chestnut curls tumbled across her shoulders, sitting against a black and white jumper. And then, of course, the skirt. And a _lot_ of leg. She felt exposed, but she also felt strangely more confident. 

* * *

When Hermione entered the library, Draco tried to hide his surprise. She _never_ wore skirts that short, and it was the first time he’d seen the enticing skin of her creamy thighs. He felt desire tingle through him but he managed to not let his gaze linger on her legs for too long.

Hermione walked over, smiling, her curls bouncing ever so slightly. 

“Nice skirt, Granger.”

Hermione huffed. “Thank you,” she said, as she took a seat next to him on the couch. They were in the more open part of the library, overlooking the many shelves and she felt strangely at peace with him now.

“Well,” he said, wasting no time, “we’ve been tasked to sort out all these books. Some of them are damaged upon a repair to which we’ll put away separately. Then there are some we’ll have to repair and replace back in the right part of the library. Other books need to be reviewed and updated in the system. Its a bunch of admin work so I understand it if you no longer want to help.”

“If you insinuate one more time that I’m not going to enjoy spending my mornings with the company of books then I will have to…” she struggled to think of a serious threat.

“Have to _what,_ Granger?”

“I will have to personally punch you in the face. Just like I did in third year,” she said decisively. 

Draco let out a small laugh. “That’s hardly a punishment, Granger.”

She flung around to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nevermind.” There was something in his voice. “Let’s just get on with our task.”

They worked in silence for the next hour, only the sounds of rustling paper and muttered spells accompanying them. It felt like they had entered a different world there - one where they didn’t need to constantly tease each other - where the silence was comfortable and Draco couldn’t help but think how _easy_ it was to be with her. How the time passed in calm, gentle waves. Hermione made a small sound and he looked over to see her stretching. The jumper she wore had ridden up and a small patch of her stomach was showing.

It was nothing, and yet his eyes felt stuck to the small piece of skin. He didn’t want to look away. He wanted to- He wanted to touch her. Touch those bare thighs and then in between them. Watch how her eyes would grow heavy with pleasure, how her breaths would come quicker as she fell apart for him-

Merlin, he thought, he needed to get a grip on himself. He was Draco Malfoy for god’s sake, he didn’t get horny over seeing a little skin. He realised he was still staring when Hermione stopped stretching and her gaze rested on him. Their eyes locked. She looked away instantly, and Draco wished she hadn’t, wished she’d challenge him and continued to stare. But why would she? She wasn’t interested in him, that was for sure.

“How are you getting along?” she asked.

“It’s alright, but I think I need a break. All this staring at books has my eyes hurting. What about you?”

“Agreed.” she paused as if she needed to prepare herself for her next words. “We should play a game.”

“If you mean spin the bottle, forget it.”

He loved seeing her squirm at the mention of that memory. He knew she was thinking of it, and so was he. It was a moment he’d replayed in his head multiple times - her eyelashes fluttering, her slender neck, her vanilla scent. 

She made a frustrated sound. “Well, what about truth or dare then?”

“I’m surprised you’re the one suggesting this. You don’t seem the type of girl who would go to all these lengths just for me to kiss her.” He was teasing of course but Hermione turned a deep red. She seemed speechless for a second but he just smirked. It was amusing how easily embarrassed and flustered she got.

“I do _not_ want you to kiss me. In fact, I’m hoping you don’t choose dare for most of them, and instead truth.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m curious about you.” she said as if it was the easiest and most natural thing to admit. 

He was still recovering from the sting of her saying she didn’t want to kiss him, and yet the hiss of pleasure he got from her saying she was _curious_ about him felt stupid but intense. Why did the idea of Hermione Granger wanting to know him make him so damn excited? 

“Well, Granger, I am a man of many secrets. How about we go to Hogsmeade, get some warm drinks, and play the game there?”

* * *

  
Hogesmaede was warm and cosy - a respite from the cold autumn air outside. The general chatter of the place and the warm hum of drinks being served, and people laughing and talking warmed Hermione’s heart. 

Draco pulled out her chair for her to sit. She didn't miss the way his eyes hovered on her legs for a second and then away.

"This is not a date, Malfoy."

Draco only smirked. "What ever gave you that idea?"

Hermione huffed and then got seated. 

“Truth or dare?” 

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed. “Truth.”

“What made you change - after the war?”

He hesitated. “I never really had a choice, Granger. I never wanted to kill Dumbledore or be a Death Eater. And yes, I could’ve been better. But I didn’t know much else. I had my family and my Slytherin friends. I only found guidance and goodness after The War because I found better influences, and chose to educate myself on history and prejudice. Its no excuse, but...I _was_ just a boy.”

Hermione felt something in her turn - he trusted her to tell her all of this? Truth be told, she had expected a short answer, for him to brush over the subject.

“Your turn, Granger. Truth Or Dare?”

Hermione sipped at her drink. “Truth.”

“What’s the last thing you dreamed about?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows - surprised - shee felt for sure he’d embarrass her with a crass question. She threw her mind back.

“My parents,” she admitted. “I can’t remember properly but I remember we were in my kitchen and we were having a good time.” She looked down at her lap. “I miss them.”

Looking up, she met Draco’s eyes expecting to find anything but sympathy or understanding. But that _is_ what she found there - a gentle sort of kindness she didn’t know Draco possessed.

“I’m sorry Granger. It shouldn’t - you don't deserve that.” 

She shook her head - “It used to be hard. It still is - but less. It hurts less. Anyways," she said, taking a breath, “Truth or Dare Malfoy?” she smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Truth.” 

“You’re no fun! Why don’t you pick a dare?”

“I don’t trust you enough with a dare.”

She grumbled. “Fine. Who was the last girl you slept with?”

Draco nearly choked on his drink. “Wow,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “why are you, interested Granger? Fancy getting into my bed yourself?”

Hermione felt her cheeks warm. “No! Of course not. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“Curious, I see. Well, if you must know, it was Daphne Greengrass.”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “But that wasn’t recent. You were with her a year ago. Unless you-”

“You’re correct, Granger. I slept with her about a year ago.”

Hermione looked at him in disbelief. “Why no one else since then? I mean - you, you _can_.”

Draco smirked and she hated how much she was coming to like that grin of his. “I could but,” he shrugged, “Truth be told, I wasn’t really satisfied sleeping around with random girls for long. I got bored.”

“Bored? Of sex?”

Draco laughed. “Are you telling me you didn’t get bored of sex with Weasely?”

Hermione forced herself to still for a moment so she didn’t explode at that very moment. “That is not relevant to the conversation,” she said finally, through gritted teeth. 

“Isn’t it? It's something that we have in common.”

“Being bored…”

“Of sex. It's okay, you can finish the sentence, Granger.”

She reached over and punched him on the arm, jolting his drink.

“Watch it! You almost spilt my drink!”

“Serves you right.”

“What?” he said, raising his hands as if innocent. “What did I do?”

“You were being an idiot.”

“Aren’t I always?”

Hermione glared at him. “I can’t argue with that.”

He grinned and then took a large gulp of his drink. “Well, Granger, truth or dare?”

“Truth.” 

“And you said _I_ was boring,” Draco muttered. “Do you have an eye on a certain wizard right now?” Hermione didn’t know if she was imagining the hope in his voice at the question.

“Malfoy, I just broke up with Ron a week ago.”

“Answer the question, Granger.”

“I- Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”

“And who’s the lucky guy?”

Hermione _could_ not, _would_ not look at him. Her insides felt like they were on fire. “I don’t think he feels the same, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Granger, any guy would be a fool to pass up on dating you.”

Their eyes met and Hermione’s heart skipped a beat - maybe several. His look was warm and honey, his face soft and beautiful and he felt like he saw her then - really saw her - in a way that no one else had.

“We’ll see.” is all she said, in that quiet voice of hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I really love this chapter - a little bit sexy and emotional which is my favourite type of chapter haha. Let me know your thoughts so far! x


	5. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was listening,” she lied, “I just happen to know about Blaise’s talents.”  
> She raised a suggestive eyebrow at Blaise who grinned flirtatiously back.  
> She needed to take this further, so impulsively she placed a hand on the very tops of his thigh, and grasped the cloth between her fingers. 
> 
> Theo coughed loudly. “Am I the only one who thinks she means more than one thing when she says talent?”

Hermione threw her bag onto her bag and then slumped on to it. 

“He hasn’t slept with someone in over a year, Pans.”

“Are you _sure_?”

“Yes, the last girl he slept with was Daphne.”

Pansy, hesitated, resting her head in her hand. “That’s impossible.”

Hermione giggled. “Is it? It's not that absurd.”

“It doesn’t seem like him, is what I’m saying.”

They both fell into deep thought for a few moments. 

Pansy eyes sparked up. “When did you start getting to know him? Malfoy.”

Hermione thought back. They definitely hadn’t become friends immediately after the war, it had taken time and a lot of healing. Plus it had been awkward to become friends with people who she’d thought she’d always hate. But after several months of them mixing in classes and events, it became easier to talk to other Slytherins - and others from other houses. She found many admirable qualities in many people who she’d simply written off before. The war had changed things - and in a small way she was glad for that. 

“It’s...It’s been a year now. We haven’t been super close all that time. But that’s when we first started treating each other with respect.”

“A year ago was the last time he had sex...a year ago he started to get to know you! Are you thinking what I’m thinking Hermione!”

“Oh my - that’s simply a coincidence! That means absolutely nothing, Pansy.”

“Are you sure? What if it's not a coincidence? What if he’s liked you all this time and has been waiting for you-”

“Pansy, you can’t possibly believe that while I was still with Ron he was holding onto the wild notion that I’d be with him and therefore stop sleeping with any girl? It’s ridiculous. He told me he stopped because he was bored”

“Of _sex_?”

“That’s what I said! I thought men never tired of it.”

Pansy hummed, tapping her foot repeatedly against the floor.

“Well,” she said finally, “It doesn’t matter about why Draco stopped sleeping around. Maybe it's not to do with you. Maybe it is. Whatever. What this means is he’s looking for something serious. And so are you. So…”

“So I might have a chance,” Hermione muttered quietly.

“Exactly.”

“Well, what do I do?”

“Well, for one, I don’t think seducing him is going to work. He’s pretty good at ignoring girl’s advances on him. You’ve got to- You’ve got to find out- if he feels the same.”

“And how on earth do I do that?”

Pansy smiled. “See if he gets jealous of you with another guy. If he doesn’t, then he probably thinks of you as a friend. But I have a feeling Malfoy won’t like the idea of someone touching _his_ girl”

“I am not _his_ ,” Hermione hissed. 

“Not yet.” Hermione ignored Pansy’s face splitting into a wide grin. 

* * *

Blaise shook his head. “If you really want to win Draco’s affection, this shouldn’t be how you do it.”

“Please? I’m paying you after all.”

Blaise sighed. 

* * *

On Fridays, the common room was usually filled out with people. All the houses had begun to mix after the war, and while Hermione’s friend group didn’t exactly overlap with Draco’s, Blaise’s did. She strolled in, observing people sitting on couches and playing cards, trying out stupid spells, drinking _certain_ substances, and she even spotted a couple making out a little too aggressively.

Her eyes scanned the room and she spotted Theo, Blaise and Draco chatting on the floor. Well, Draco was sprawled on the armchair and Theo and Blaise were surrounding him on the floor beneath him. It was an amusing scene. Her heart stuttered at what she was going to do but she strolled over with as much as the confidence she could muster. 

Draco’s eyes flickered up when he saw her approaching. “Granger?” he said, confused. They didn’t interact much outside their library dates or lessons, and so this was new. She ignored him completely.

“ _Blaise,_ ” she drawled, “Mind if I sit next to you?” she threw the most innocent, sweet look at him, looking down at him with wide eyes and a pleading face. 

Blaise smiled politely. “Sure, Hermione.” He moved over a little to let Hermione sit directly in front of Malfoy who still sat on the chair, looking down at her. The Slytherins were sitting back on their hands but Hermione huddled close to Blaise, drawing her knees up to her chest, right next to his shoulder.

She didn’t want to be too over the top like she was _dating_ Blaise, but a little flirting couldn’t hurt. Could it?  
She felt completely out of her depths sitting with them, conversations alone with Draco easy but now not knowing what to do with herself.

“Well, what were you guys talking about?” Her voice was high-pitched and breathless. 

“Believe it or not, quidditch,” Theo answered. 

Draco grimaced.

“Well, continue! Just pretend I’m not here.”

She gave a pointed glance to Blaise. He faltered. Then - “I mean that’s not really possible now is it, Hermione?” He flashed a grin at her and she hoped her blush looked real to Draco.

“Blaise,” she muttered, aiming to sound shy and embarrassed. 

Draco cleared his throat but she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. It was only as the boys got lost into their conversation did she subtly sneak a glance at him. He was explaining something to them and as he did he was moving his hands about. God, _those hands._ Those very big hands. No doubt those fingers were skilled. She didn’t dwell on that thought for much longer otherwise she wouldn’t be able to focus on the task at hand.

Which was what?

She couldn’t- Draco was wearing a loose shirt and now he was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his beautiful skin. She felt everything inside her clench at the sight. How was it possible for him to look that damn good? His fingers rested on his chin, drawing her eyes to his fantastic jawline, and his eyes absently drifted to hers. She looked away immediately, panic shooting through her and perhaps something else, pretending she had been staring at Blaise. All she could think was _oh my he is so hot._

“Well, Hermione, what do you think?” Blaise asked, who also seemed to be remembering why she was here in the first place. 

“Hmm?” She hadn’t been listening, too busy thinking about Draco’s goddamn forearms.

Those _hands._

“Do you think we’ll win the match on Saturday, Hermione?” She liked that he said her name at the end of sentences, it was sweet. 

_“Well,”_ she drew the word out as if she was really considering. “If you’re on the team,” she smiled looking directly at Blaise, her legs slightly brushing his, “no doubt you’ll win.”

She realised with a start that even if Draco wasn’t here, that flirting was actually fun. Blaise knew this was all pretend, so she felt more confident being risky. 

Draco humphed and smiled like he knew a secret. “You do know we’re up against Gryffindor right? Maybe you would know that if you had been focusing.” His voice was bitter but so _smug._

Fuck. 

Was she that bad at acting like she was attracted to Blaise? And was she that bad at hiding her attraction to him? Did he _know_ how sexy he was? Did he know that she spent every waking moment thinking of him whether it was that smile of his, or his laugh, or his _arms_? Which she was doing everything to not look at right now. 

“I was listening,” she lied, “I just happen to know about Blaise’s _talents._ ” She raised a suggestive eyebrow at Blaise who grinned flirtatiously back. She needed to take this further, so impulsively she placed a hand on the very top of his thigh, and grasped the cloth between her fingers. 

Theo coughed loudly. “Am I the only one who thinks she means more than one thing when she says talents?”

Hermione did everything not to burst out into a fit of giggles but she dared a glance at Draco. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were fixed on her hand like he wanted to burn it. _Good._

Draco’s voice could’ve gut glass. “Granger.”

“What?” she huffed.

He bought his gaze up to meet her and it was icy. “I never took you for a traitor.”

She laughed, keeping her hand on Blaise’s thigh. “How am I a traitor?”

“Surely you should be supporting Gryffindor.”

“I mean, I used to but then I met this _very_ handsome, skilled man.” She turned to Blaise. “Isn’t that right?”

“You two need to get a room because I _promise_ you Draco and I do not want to see-”

Draco cut him off. “So that’s all it takes. A handsome guy to make you change your loyalties?” His voice was angry but scarily quiet and reserved all at once. She noticed a flush in his cheeks, and his breathing seemed heavier. She clenched the cloth of Blaise's trousers tighter instinctively, and she saw his eyes catch the movement, and she didn't miss the darkening of his pupils.

“Goodness Malfoy. It’s not a life or death situation. I just want to support a guy I like.”

“Sure, Granger. Even your friends can’t rely on your loyalty.” He grit out, his voice dripping with bitterness.

She was unsure if he was talking about Harry and Ron then or himself. Was he actually angry at her? She thought at most he’d be a little possessive but she’d never seen him like this. It terrified her.

Her facade broke. 

The hurt in her voice was evident. “You know what? This was fun, but I- I think I have to go. Thanks for letting me hang out with you.”

She didn’t know why she did it, perhaps it was the people pleaser nature inside her, but she smiled at Draco as she stood up even though she’d done nothing wrong - and _he_ was acting out of turn.

He simply just stared at her as if he wasn’t really seeing her.

Hermione’s stomach churned violently as she made her way back to her room - she felt terrible. She wasn't even happy about the idea of Draco getting jealous - he probably hated her now.

She’d never regretted a plan more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, I kinda loved how angry/annoyed Draco was in this scene!! I feel like it might be out of character for Hermione to do something like this but it was fun to write! Draco POV coming very very soon.


	6. I’m Not Going To Kiss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both breathed heavily for a moment and Draco revelled in how close she was to him. 
> 
> “Yes,” she breathed.
> 
> “Hmm?”

Draco hadn’t been able to sleep that night. After she had left, he’d wanted to go after her to explain himself in some way. He was angry at her but more angry at himself. 

Now he sat his desk trying to read something, anything to keep his mind off the image of her and Blaise together. Slamming his book shut, he screwed his eyes shut and all he could see was her hand on his thigh. Hermione Granger. Somehow she’d managed to get under his skin. He’d started to like her, enjoy her presence and then she had to pull that? He hadn’t even been aware that Blaise and her hung out. And the looks she’d been giving to him, biting her lip and her eyes blown wide. _Fuck fuck fuck._ She didn’t have to be so gorgeous. She didn’t, but she was. Of course, Blaise wanted her, which wizard didn’t? 

He didn’t really want to _be_ with Hermione, he only wanted for her to be his. He knew that was fucked up but he didn’t want to work through his emotions about her right now. He wanted to fuck her. Nothing more. And so, understandably, the sight of her flirting with Blaise had made his insides feel like they were burning. He knew he had no right to treat her that way and the sad little smile she’d given to him when she had left broke him. In the moment, he had felt a sick disgust for her. Now he felt guilty. She hadn’t done anything wrong - she was one of the few people who had made an effort to be his friend, to understand he had changed. And he’d gone and fucked it up. 

He needed to explain himself to her - apologise for his behaviour and then blame it on something else so she wouldn’t suspect that he was so jealous of her hand on Blaise’s leg he thought he might burst. He got ready for the day and then started walking quickly through the corridors- and spotted Pansy and immediately made his way over. 

“Pansy, do you know where Granger is?”

Pansy smiled at him like she knew a secret. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Why do you want to know? You got a crush?”

“Tell me where she is Pansy.”

Pansy seemed disappointed. “Whatever, she’s in the library.”

* * *

When he found her among the rows of books, it was silent and she had taken a book out of a shelf and was flicking through it. He couldn’t see her expression from behind but he could imagine the look of concentration on her face. He didn’t _mean_ to sneak up on her, but he found himself treading slowly and quietly towards her. 

Finally, when he was mere inches from her, he bent down and whispered against her ear. “Granger.”

She yelped, dropping the book and spun around, her beautiful face entirely too close to his.

“Malfoy,” she squeaked “What are you doing here?”

His face was still so close to hers - so close that he could accidentally kiss her. Before he could think more about that, he moved his face away from hers - still close, but not dangerously close. He stared at her lips for a moment, so distracted by the sight of them he forgot she’d asked a question.

Then he jolted himself back into reality. “I came here to…” Well shit, he hadn’t really thought this through. “Uh-”

“Would you mind hurrying up, Malfoy? I was quite busy.”

“Yeah? Busy doing what.”

“I was reading up on how to make this very specific potion and it was actually quite intriguing if you must know. That was before you interrupted me.”

“Shouldn’t you be with Blaise?” he sneered. The words slipped loose - he had had no intention of saying them but he couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d been touching him and look at him yesterday. The images were burned into his mind and he couldn’t think of anything else.

Hermione frowned. “Why would I be with him?”

“I assumed you were dating now. You did say you had an eye on a certain wizard the other day.”

Hermione laughed. And then laughed some more. And then she couldn’t stop. “Sorry,” she said breathlessly “Me and Blaise? You think we’re dating?”

“You were practically groping him in the common room yesterday,” Draco said, who didn't find this as amusing as her.

At this Hermione looked away from him. “Well,” she said eventually “That was just- we’re not dating. We were just having some harmless fun. You needn’t be so angry.”

“Angry?” he shook his head and smirked. He reached down and took her palm in his and she gasped loudly. “Angry?” he said as he threaded his other hand through her fingers so now he was holding both her hands. They were very small and cool in his.   
“Malfoy,” she said in a hushed tone, “what are you doing?” 

“You think I was angry, Granger?”

She seemed at a loss for words as he bought both her arms up and pinned them loosely beside her head, against the rough spines of the books. He could see her breathing heavily and he revelled in the knowledge that she was affected by this. By his touch. 

“What are you doing Malfoy?” her voice was weak and breathless and he smiled even wider.

She looked so sexy then, completely open and vulnerable to him.

“Just some harmless fun, Granger,” he muttered as he leaned in so that their noses touched.

Hermione’s eyes closed, and she wet her lips.

He was struck with the realisation that she wanted this.

She wanted him to kiss her. 

She wanted him.

There was a moment where Hermione’s eyes were still closed and her cheeks flushed. Where she thought he was going to kiss her. But he didn’t - just watched her intently.

And then she opened her eyes, disappointment written across her face.

“I’m not going to kiss you if that’s what you think.”

“Then _why_ do you have me pinned up against a bookshelf?”

“I’m sorry for being so mean to you yesterday. My mind was elsewhere and I, unfortunately, took it out on you.”

“So it had nothing to do with me and Blaise then?” she said through gritted teeth.

“It was disconcerting to say the least. But I wasn’t angry about it.”

“That’s good to know Malfoy. If you would like to answer my previous question...that would be great.” 

“I know on the mouth kisses are very romantic for you.”

She bit her lip. “They are,” she whispered.

“So i’m not going to kiss you.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of it,” she murmured.

“I just wanted to let you know there’s a party on the night of the quidditch match on Saturday. Wondered if you would come.”

“Do you want me there?” There was a lilt of something in her voice - hope?

“What do you think?” His voice was so much louder than the voice she was using now, quiet and small.

“I don’t know what to think, Malfoy.”

“You don’t have to be there alone Granger. You and Blaise can attend together.”

“Stop mentioning Blaise, I promise last night was…” She took a deep breath. “Well, what it is- i- well, I’ve never really got a chance to flirt with many people because I was with Ron,” she admitted. “We’re friends, that’s all. I’m just exploring. Do you blame me for that?”

His chest heaved. “No, I don’t”

They both breathed heavily for a moment and Draco revelled in how close she was to him. 

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Hmm?”

“I’ll come.”

“Good.” 

As Draco began to move away, Hermione spoke quickly. “I didn’t really want you to kiss me. I’m just exploring - as you know.”

“Granger, I get it. I certainly didn’t want to kiss you either. It was fun to see the look in your eyes when you thought I would.”

“If I recall correctly I was closing my eyes.”

“Funny, the memory has slipped from my mind.”

Hermione let out a little laugh. “Of course.” 

His back was to her but then he turned to face her. “Seriously, Granger. I wouldn’t mind making out but you’ve been a really good friend to me. I don’t want more.”

Her smile looked pained - or perhaps he was imagining it. “Malfoy - I get it. We’re friends. I don’t want anything more either.”

“Good.” he nodded. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

He left silently, wondering when he’d gotten so good at lying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why i love setting scenes like this at the library but i hope you guys enjoy it! draco is a bit hands on in this chapter and i think hermione likes it more than she wants to admit haha. Thanks for reading! i didn't even expect anyone to read this story so it means a lot!


	7. Very Bad Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grasping his hair in her fingers, she pulled him impossibly closer - his kiss became rougher and she shivered. She wanted him so badly. 
> 
> “Be a good girl Granger, and keep quiet for me.”

_“We’re friends, that’s all. I’m just exploring. Do you blame me for that?”_

_“Why don’t you explore with me?” His voice was deep and beautiful, and he brushed his nose against hers, pushing her further into the shelf._

_“But you won’t even kiss me.”_

_“Do you want me to?” She felt herself being drawn to his voice, his eyes, his face - and she couldn’t keep her hands off him for much longer._

_She shook her head even as she said yes. She knew her voice sounded funny but he brushed his lips against hers, teasingly. Pleasure tingled through her delightfully and then he was really kissing her, aggressively, passionately, in an all-consuming, dizzying way. One hand on her face, one on her waist and the desire in her was like shimmering gold, it radiated off her and Draco was painting small circles on her stomach, just below her jumper. Grasping his hair in her fingers, she pulled him impossibly closer - his kiss became rougher and she shivered. She wanted him so badly._

_“Be a good girl Granger, and keep quiet for me.”_

She woke up from her dream with a start. The remnants of her dream lingered in her body, and she felt a sweet pulsing between her legs. She remembered feeling Draco’s lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth and how _good_ it felt. She didn’t mean to but she immediately compared to Dream Draco to Ron’s kisses - they’d always left her with lukewarm feelings but now- God if Dream Draco was making her feel like this, then what would he be like in real life?

There was a pain in her chest. _I certainly didn’t want to kiss you._ To be fair, she had said it first, but that was only after he’d practically rejected her by _not_ kissing her. Her mind couldn't stop replaying back to how rough he had been with her, pinning her up on those bookshelves, and how much she’d liked it.

She had laid herself vulnerable in front of him, closing her eyes, begging for a kiss like a fool. He must think her pathetic - of course, he didn’t want to kiss her. He was just teasing. It was his reputation to mess around with girls - that’s all he’d been doing. Why had she for one stupid moment forgot all this and actually hoped to make out with him?

She prided herself on being a smart witch, but when it came to Draco Malfoy she always felt like an idiot. 

Still riled up from her dream, she showered that morning and then touched herself thinking of him. 

* * *

Hermione chose her knee length skirt when getting dressed - he certainly didn’t want to kiss her so why try. Aware that she could also be sexy for herself, her hand hovered over a shorter skirt in her wardrobe. Then she remembered the party and decided she would save the sexiness for later.

* * *

It was only slightly awkward to see Malfoy in the library after their previous encounter. Her best efforts were put into ensuring she didn’t think of him pushing her up against a shelf and her dream about him. Extremely determined to put these things out of her mind, she sat down next to Malfoy, leaving a comfortable distance between them. He hadn’t looked up at her or even acknowledged her ever since she walked in so she cleared her throat.

“Malfoy?”

“Hello Granger,” he murmured, distracted. He was leafing through a book and seemed very intent on repairing it.

“Hi,” she said, feeling a little lost. Not wanting to make things even more awkward, she picked up a book off the pile herself and let silence fill the room for a while. 

“Excited for the quidditch match today?” Merlins, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut.

“Hmm, who do you want to win?”

The truth was, she wanted to see Gryffindor win but she was extremely aware of the words she’d said to Blaise earlier.

“Slytherin, of course.” 

He raised an eyebrow but still didn’t look at her.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m a traitor.” She couldn’t even hide the disdain in her voice.

At that, he _did_ look at her, his eyes flicked up and down her body - was he checking her out?

“Granger,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Did I not apologize? I didn’t mean it. You know that.”

“I forgave you but Malfoy, but if we’re on such good terms why have you practically ignored me ever since I walked in.”

“My mind is elsewhere Granger. Not everything’s about you.”

“Of course it isn’t,” she said, annoyed.

“You know what? You’re acting really entitled right now.”

“Entitled? You’re my friend. You’re supposed to- I don’t know! Be nice!”

“Nice? Are you talking to the right person?”

“I thought you’d chan-”

“I have changed, Granger. Doesn’t mean I’m going to start being polite. If I don’t want to talk, I don’t have to.”

“Fine.”

A moment passed.

“Is this about the kiss?”

“What? No. No it's not about- No- what kiss?”

“Granger, you’re a very bad liar.”

“I told you I didn’t want to actually kiss you so why would I be angry about that?”

He hummed and resumed reading his book. Almost absent-mindedly he spoke. “Sit closer to me.”

Hermione's breath hitched and she hesitated, but then she was shuffling over to him, noting how their thighs almost brushed. She didn’t dare to speak - fearful she'd say something incredibly stupid. 

“You smell good.” His voice was deep and husky.

“Thanks,” she breathed.

His fingers came to graze her arm and his eyes met hers. His voice was tender and low. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I don’t want to fight,”

She nodded. “Me neither.”

“Good,” he whispered and Hermione had to suppress her shiver of him saying that word in _that_ voice.

“Now let’s get back to work,” he said as if nothing had happened at all.

They worked in silence as usual and as the hour slipped by, a calm rested over both of them. A calm Hermione hadn’t experienced in a while. With him, she could just _be._ She couldn’t explain it but Malfoy bought her the peace she found in books, in late night dips in the pool when she needed to de-stress. Even though he wasn’t always an easy person to like, when she was with him like this, she felt like he was the only person in the world who didn’t judge her, who let her simply just exist.

She wanted to bottle the feeling of being with him and get drunk on it.

“I’m going to have to leave early if that’s okay. I’ve got to get ready for my quidditch match.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

There was something almost domestic in the way he placed a thankful hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I know I can always count on you.” She tried to ignore the beam in her heart when he smiled at her like that.

She wanted to be the cause of all his smiles. She grinned back. “Good luck, Malfoy. I’ll be coming to watch.”

“Well then, I hope I don’t disappoint.”

* * *

As Draco got prepared for his match, he found his thoughts wandering to Granger. She seemed to be on his mind increasingly, and he wasn’t exactly complaining but he’d never felt so confused about a girl. Usually, he knew exactly what he wanted - to have sex and be done with it. But Hermione was different. She’d made it clear that she wanted him but in what way? In a way where he’d have to be vulnerable with her? He tugged on a shirt - she wasn’t exactly the type for one time things, she wanted a relationship that was for sure. He couldn’t get her hopes up - there was absolutely no way he could ever give her something she wanted, something she deserved. 

But it was becoming impossible to restrain himself - he wanted to kiss her so badly it was driving him mad. He knew if he gave in, then whatever peace he found with her would be gone and be replaced with the stress of a relationship he’d never be ready for. 

He could barely sustain a friendship with her, and he knew he’d just fuck up a romance with her and then regret everything. No, it was better this way, having her company and not her love - he didn’t do relationships. 

His last thought before he made his way out onto the field was how much he missed the sight of her legs in a short skirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hermione's dream about draco is easily my favourite thing in this chapter. :)


	8. Rest Your Head Upon My Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly, so slowly he felt like he was imagining it, Hermione lowered herself until her head rested on his shoulder. A strange warm glow settled in him at the feeling - like that was where she belonged, tucked against him while he breathed in her vanilla scent.

She hadn’t been there for the first few minutes of the match, caught up in her library tasks, but she’d hurried and joined the throngs of people watching the match. She usually watched Harry or Ron during the game, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Malfoy the entire time - her heart surged whenever he was winning or did an especially cool move. 

In the end, Gryffindor won and she didn't miss the frustrated look on Draco’s face as he walked through the field. For a distracted moment, she noted how good he looked when there was sweat on his face and he ws breathing heavy. 

It had been a close match - but Harry was an _excellent_ seeker, she knew that. As Harry and Ron made their way to the changing rooms from the field, she ran up to them. She wrapped her arms around Harry. He hugged her back tightly. 

“Well done Harry! You were great out there!” She smiled happily at him.

“Thanks, it was a tough match.”

“Well, seeing you up there- it was great.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure your eye was on someone else this match…”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Harry I...”

Harry just smiled sweetly at her, whilst absentmindedly tossing his broom between both hands. “Hermione, it doesn’t bother me.” He cocked his head towards Ron who was standing a few metres away fixing his hair. “It’s Ron you should be worried about.”

She shook her head. “Malfoy and I aren’t...we’re _not._ ”

“Not yet?” he inquired.

“Not ever,” Hermione muttered _. I certainly didn’t want to kiss you.  
_

“Hermione if you want to talk about it, we can.” His gaze was understanding and warm and she was suddenly very grateful to have him as a friend. “It’s nothing,” she assured him. She hesitated. “Do you think I should go congratulate Ron?”

“Sure, we just won. Just because you’re not together doesn’t mean you can’t be happy for him.”  
  
She flattened down her clothes and made her way over to Ron.

“Hi!”

For a small moment, he stared at her, a little speechless. They hadn’t spoken to each other much after the break up not because of resentment, but because it had felt awkward.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on winning. You were fantastic.”

He paused for a moment longer. “Thanks,” he said finally.

They both stared at each other a moment longer, not knowing what to say.

Hermione bent her knees a little and gave him an awkward smile. “Well, good seeing you. And talking to you.”

“Yeah.”

She nodded once again and then scurried off as fast as she could. After a few moments, she found a gathering of trees and a little giddy, she collapsed to the ground. She bunched a handful of grass between her fingers and pulled. Happiness and adrenaline coursed through her - though she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the situation with Ron - she felt immature and silly for not being able to talk to him. No, that wasn’t true. _He_ was the one who couldn’t speak to her. She was perfectly fine. She pictured his face when she had congratulated him and she burst into a fit of giggles. Deep down somewhere, she knew she was bitterly sad about the fact that she’d never have the guy she wanted, and the fact that she had never received the love she’d always craved. Not with Ron, not with anyone. But she kept laughing, tears leaking from her eyes.

“Granger?”

She snapped her head around, and of course, of course, it _had_ to be Malfoy.

“Malfoy?” she said, still slightly laughing.

He tilted his head slightly and frowned. Merlins, why was _that so attractive?  
_

“Are you okay?”

* * *

She took a deep breath and then began laughing a little again. She looked wildly beautiful then.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding, “I’ve never been better.”  
Her cheeks were rosy and her hair looked glossy and soft.

“You’re laughing on the ground in the middle of nowhere. Have you taken something?”

Surprisingly, she didn’t laugh at this and instead placed a hand on her stomach. She ran a hand over her face and through her hair. “No, Malfoy, I swear I’m okay. Thanks for checking up on me. “ She squinted her eyes to study him. “Were you following me?”

He paused and felt a little panicked - well _shit_. He _had_ followed her. She giggled again - probably at his expression.

“It’s okay if you were, you know,” her eyes twinkled with amusement and he found himself drawn to those brown pupils.

Slowly, tentatively, he began walking close to her. She shot him a smile.

“Come sit,” she said, tapping the grass next to her enthusiastically

“Okay,” he agreed, and cautiously sat next to her on the grass. He noted how small she was compared to him. There was only a small strap of skin peeking between her skirt and her thigh high socks - but it drove him crazy. Everything about her drove him crazy.

She tilted her head to the sky. "How did you find the match?"

"We lost."

"Yes."

"Can we not talk about it?"

"Sure."

Draco let the quiet overtake him - the gentle breeze cooling the sweat pooling on his forehead, the friendly noises of birds, and the distant sound of Hogwarts chatter.  
  
“I talked to Ron.”

He turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

"It was so…” A smile split her face. “ _Awkward,_ ” she laughed eventually. “I don’t know how he used to be my boyfriend.”

She shook her head making one of her curls land on his jersey. His eyes trained on the sight but he didn’t push it away, revelling at how something of hers was indirectly touching him. It was nothing but it felt like _something._

“Me neither,” he chuckled.

“Really?”

“I mean...I don’t exactly have high opinions of Weasley.”

She shifted to face him, smiling wide, her brown eyes sparkling. “And you have high opinions of me?”

“You’re better than Weasley so yeah.”

She scoffed and turned back to face the trees in front of them, staring ahead. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” Amused, he looked at her from the top of her head. He was staring at her but she had no clue that he was.

“You know, the day I got the dark mark, all I could think about was about how much I detested my cowardliness.”  
He heard her breathing change but she didn’t say anything, letting him speak. He was confused at why'd he'd said that so he remained quiet for a few minutes, reflecting. But he decided to continue. 

“But I didn’t really have a choice, right? Or did I? I could’ve done something. Fought back somehow. But I just let - I let everything happen.”  
  
Slowly, so slowly he felt like he was imagining it, Hermione lowered herself until her head rested on his shoulder. A strange warm glow settled in him at the feeling - like that was where she belonged, tucked against him while he breathed in her vanilla scent.

He listened to the sound of her breathing and the slowness of it calmed the panic he felt at telling her all this. He didn’t know exactly why he had even brought this up but it felt right so he didn’t question it.

“I always think about how about alone I was. I keep thinking if only I had someone. To tell me things would be alright, that I was brave, that I was _good._ ” His next breath was shakier. “Obviously I take the blame and responsibility for my actions. But I also think about how young I was, how much I didn’t know. I just wish I could go back in time and tell myself to do things differently.” 

She snuggled against his shoulder and he felt his heartbeat lower at how much comfort the action bought him.

“I hated myself for so long, rightfully so. And now- well,” he said, a dark chuckle escaping his mouth, “sometimes I still do.”

She lifted her head slightly from his shoulder and peeked up at him. “You can’t possibly still hate yourself for what happened years ago. We were all different then. We were put into situations we never should have been.”

“I know- but there are certain things I don’t think are forgivable, Granger.”

She sighed and nuzzled back onto him.

“Well if it changes anything, I forgive you.”

There was the weight of him on her shoulder - and that felt _good_. But there had been the fear that she was still secretly disgusted by the evil in him weighing on him. _But she wasn’t._ He felt lighter.

“Thank you,” he said finally.  
He felt her smile against him. “You always forget that you didn’t identify us at Malfoy Manor. You weren’t all bad.”

Sadness swirled in him at the memory. “I guess.”

Silence passed for he didn’t know how long but the moment felt so right - and a calm washed over him.

“What are you wearing for the party tonight?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder and he felt the loss of her warmth immediately. “This really sexy black dress.”

He gulped. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m hoping it will help me with the whole _exploring_ thing I’m trying out. You know?” She looked up at him through her eyelashes and twirled with a piece of grass nervously.

He cleared his throat. “Oh yes, that. How’s it going?”

“Well, apart from flirting with Blaise for a bit, absolutely nothing.” A small laugh escaped her. “I feel a little pathetic.”

“I don’t see why you’re struggling, Granger.”

Suddenly she was moving and lying down sideways on the grass, one hand to support her head and one draped over her stomach.

“What do you mean by _that_?”

“Uh-” he faltered. Why the hell didn’t he think before he spoke. “Well, you’re an agreeable looking witch. It’s not that hard to find a guy to mess around with, surely.”

She huffed. “Agreeable?”

It was hard to avoid her gaze when she was staring at him like that. He tried to keep his eyes away from those legs of hers lying prettily against the grass.

He didn’t say anything, words stuck in his throat.

Disappointed, she began to get up. “I’m glad you think I’m agreeable.”

“Granger-”

A bubble of laughter escaped her. “I’m kidding Malfoy. No need to get so flustered.”

He shot her a weak grin in return. “Right.” _just kidding, Malfoy.  
_

As she set off, she called. "I look forward to seeing you at the party!"

Well, he definitely looked forward to seeing her in her dress. He could replay the moment where she had said ' _sexy black dress'_ over and over in his head never get tired of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is very much *soft* dramoine, but next chapter will very much be more sexual tension between them!! maybe they'll even act on their desires...if you're lucky


	9. Little Black Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked around the room and giggled. “I think I wanna kiss someone.” Her words were slurred and slow but somehow, they still made his chest ache. 

Trying hard not to think about what Malfoy would think of her in her black dress, she made her way to the party. The dress cinched in at the waist and enhanced the curve of her hips. It wasn’t too short - much to Pansy’s disappointment - still resting at her knee, but the _neckline_ of it...Well, her cleavage was on full display. The silk of the dress felt good over her skin but it didn’t help with the fact that she felt too exposed. She had to admit though - when she had looked in the mirror she had looked stunning. Her crystal earrings glimmered in the light and, paired with eye makeup that Pansy did for her, she looked like something out of a dream. It was safe to say, her plan to mess around with boys tonight wouldn’t be too difficult. She pushed the thought of Malfoy from her head quickly - she wasn’t worried about him. _What would he think of her in this dress?_

The party was only at a quiet hum when she arrived. The parties as they had grown older had gotten a lot more...well, _scandalous._ The dresses were shorter, the couples making out in corners were more aggressive, there were more drinks put out on tables, and just in general more craziness. So she had no idea what to expect tonight.

She spotted Draco leaning against a wall, a cup in hand as he talked calmly to Theo. She told herself she hadn’t been looking for him but she didn’t even scold herself for it because she was too focused on his shirt. His very much unbuttoned shirt. The white silk shirt had only two buttons done, the ones right at the bottom, giving a perfect glimpse of the toned skin of his chest and stomach. Her heart stopped at the sight - desire shooting through her. _Stop that._

She didn’t mean to surprise him but suddenly she was behind him and he turned around with a small yelp. He laughed when he realised it was her. He was grinning - it suited him.

“Merlin, Granger. You almost made me spill my drink.” Then his eyes widened, as he raked his gaze over her body. She felt herself heat at the way he was looking at her like he was drinking in every curve and dip of her body.

“Do...do you like my dress?” She knew that wasn’t how things were done, she shouldn’t be begging compliments off him. But she had to know what he thought - it was important.

His eyes fluttered close and he made a sound. “Yeah, you look...great. Definitely going to help you with your _exploring_ tonight.” He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her.

She felt her cheeks heat and impulsively, she grabbed the cup from his hand and downed whatever drink was in it. She licked her lips.

Draco just chuckled. “Planning on getting wasted tonight, Granger?”

“You bet,” she said, confidence she didn’t think she had glowing from her. 

“Well, good. You deserve a break from all the hard work you’ve been doing.” He pushed his sleeve loosely over his arm. Hermione tried not to look at his enticing forearm, the hard plane of his chest which was right in front of her but it was too hard to resist. Her eyes were practically glued to his skin and she hoped he didn't notice her ogling. 

“Thanks, so do you.”

He flashed a grin at her. “So, Granger. Do you think I look dashing enough to impress a lady tonight?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t need me to answer that.”

“Very good answer, Granger. You are correct. I _can_ get any lady I want in here.”

She huffed. “I don’t need to be reminded, Malfoy.”

“Well,” he said his heated gaze returning to rest on her collarbones “with the way you’re looking tonight, _you_ can get any wizard in here.”

She looked up at him and pursed her lips. Her skin felt hot, too hot. He held her gaze with intensity. 

“I’m going to find Pansy,” she said finally, needing to be anywhere but under his gaze. What did he want? Clearly not her, so why would he say something like that? To mess with her? Well, it was very much working. With the way desires were swirling inside of her, she was very much a mess. _Over him._ Over that handsome face, that smooth, toned skin. That stupid, beautiful grin that she wanted to kiss. 

Merlin, she needed a drink. 

* * *

Hermione didn’t know how much she’d had to drink - she couldn’t think straight. She was aware that Malfoy was enthusiastic about the idea of her with other wizards - instead of frustrated like she wanted him to be. She was aware that there was a growing feeling of sickness and dizziness inside of her. She was aware of music playing somewhere and the burning image of a practically shirtless Malfoy. She felt drunk - no she was drunk, so very drunk. She bumped into someone’s chest and mumbled a sorry. It was only when she looked up did she distantly realise it was Malfoy. 

“Huh?”

* * *

God, he’d never seen like this. Her skin looked pale, her eyes were unfocused and she was slurring all her words. She practically stumbled into him and he hissed at the feeling of her body against his - even for just a brief second. He pulled up by her wrists gently and looked at her.

She was still absolutely stunning in that dress, that hugged in all the right places, that made her look like something out of his dreams. Every time he had looked at her that night, which had been a lot, he burned with the desire to take that dress right there and-

Nope, he wouldn't let his thoughts stray so far. Still, she was stunning - so stunning. So beautiful. 

“Granger, speak to me.”

“You look unbearable tonight,” she slurred.

“Unbearable?” He shook his head. “You know what, forget it. You need to stop drinking.” He began to take the cup from her hand.

“No!” she whined. “I like my drink,” she smiled funnily at him. “I like it a lottt.” She began to chug some more down.

This time he forcefully took the cup from her mouth, some of it spilling down her chin. Her mascara was smudged around her eyes and she looked at him a little disgusted.

“You can’t just take my drink you know.”

“I can, and I have. Now lean on me so I can get you to sit down somewhere.”

“No!” she complained again “I don’t want you to…”

He began putting her arm around her shoulder so he could move.

“I don’t want you to move me.”

He looked at her, serious. “Why?”

Her voice was shy. “Ron...Ron will see.”

He sighed, tired. “I don’t care, now come on.” He tried moving again but she shoved against him. “Ron’s the only guy who wanted me.”

He closed his eyes.

“Granger-”

“ _Granger, Granger, Granger._ You’re so boring.” She looked around the room and giggled. “I think I wanna kiss someone.” Her words were slurred and slow but somehow, they still made his chest ache. 

Just as he began to manoeuvre her to a quieter part of the hall, he heard Weasley’s voice behind him. “Malfoy, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Hermione’s drunk. I’m trying to help. What else do you think I’m doing?” he answered, annoyed. Why did Weasely have to show up? Quietly, he noted quietly that he’d

called her Hermione but it didn’t matter because she was too drunk to notice.

Ron’s eyes went to Draco’s hand on her bare shoulder and one around her waist.

“And she’s letting _you_?”

“Yes,” he said tersely. “She’s too drunk to care, Weasely.”

“Well, let me help her instead.”

“No.”

“What do you bloody mean _no_? I’m pretty sure she’d want her boyfriend to touch her more than..” Ron looked at Malfoy with disgust. “ _You_.”

“Granger told me you broke up you know. Now leave us alone.“

Ron clenched his first. “I don’t care, Malfoy. Let go of her. She doesn’t want your filthy hands all over her.”

“You don’t know that.”

Ron’s eyes were blazing fire. “Yes, I do know that. Hermione doesn’t want a guy who's been nothing but a jerk to her to touch her."

"Actually,” Hermione spoke slowly, who had probably only caught the last bits of the conversation. She trailed off...Draco wanted her to finish the sentence but he was shocked when drunkenly, she skimmed her lips against the side of his mouth. For one electrifying moment, his heart stuttered, his eyes closed and he breathed in the allure of her wine tasting mouth. Those red lips of hers. 

Then she was slumping again, needing him to support her.

Ron just looked at him with disgust. “She’s drunk,” he sputtered, “My Hermione would never do that. She-” He shook his head.

“There is no your Hermione anymore, get that in your head, Weasley.” He grinned evilly at him and felt a surge of triumph. Granger didn’t mind his touch. She trusted him. That felt good.

  
Draco finally had gotten her to a quieter part of the hall and sat her down. He handed her a vial.

Her head was hung in her hands and she mumbled. “What’s that?”

“Uh, its to help. With your state. I don’t have enough of it to completely get rid of your drunkness, but it’ll help with nausea.” 

She tipped her head back and chugged it down. The light caught on her collarbones. He was staring at her, those wonderful breasts of her. He wondered what it would be like to touch them, suck them, kiss them. He’d had a little to drink so that must be why he was thinking these things, why he felt hot and bothered at the simple thought of Hermione Granger’s chest.

Draco stayed with her as she regained health. She sat on the edge of a sofa, while he sat on the other. Ten minutes or more passed when she sat up straight. His heart tumbled in his chest.

“I feel..” she trailed off. And then giggled. “Still pretty drunk.” She threw him a sweet look. “But better. Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Anytime, granger.”

She got to her feet steadily. “I’m going to find Pansy,”

Merlin, why was she desperate to get away from him tonight? She was the one who’d just kissed his cheek. _She’s drunk._ He watched her disappear in the excitement of the party - he watched her go. Maybe - maybe if he’d just kissed her in the library that day. She would have been his. But no - he knew she would end up scared of how fucked up he was and break off things with him days later - saying that he was too shit, too unloving, too mean, too full of himself. That she'd found a better man, one who treated with all the love he could never give her. And she'd leave him and then he wouldn’t even have her friendship - the calm her presence bought him. A calm he was finding he couldn't live without. 

* * *

Hermione was excited for the after-party. They crowded in the upper room which had blue carpets and was very dimly lit. She didn’t know how late it was but bodies had clambered upstairs, she had heard that it was almost 2 am. There had to be at least 20 of them, all clumsily moving limbs. The drinks had been put away but everyone was a little drunk - some more than others. 

Everything felt blurry, warm, and good. 

Hermione was a little excited for the seven minutes of heaven game, wondering where it would lead her and with which wizard. They sat in an excuse of a circle, a green glass bottle in the middle. Pansy grinned at Hermione. “This is going to be so much fun.”

For a hazy half an hour, Hermione just watched people being coupled off and being sent into the closet. She was entertained when she watched Harry spinning the bottle and it landing on Pansy. Needless to say, they both looked extremely flushed when they emerged from the sweaty closet - but both denied they’d done anything in that room. _Yeah right._

Hermione was getting increasingly curious as to who she’d end up with in that sweaty closet. 

* * *

Draco had never felt so pathetic in his life - he was hoping, hoping with everything in him that it would land on Granger. In every other aspect of his life, touching and kissing her would always lead to some sort of responsibility. But if she spun the bottle and it landed on him, whatever happened in that closet could be blamed on close proximity and drunkenness and the fact this was a game, in the end. It was perfect - he got to have her without the commitment. And god, did he want her. 

Hermione spun the bottle.

It didn’t land on him. Of course, it didn’t land on him, his luck would have to be astronomical for something so perfect to happen. 

It landed on Dean Thomas who looked quite pleased with the situation - of course he was excited. She didn’t look at him as they walked together as everyone else clapped and cheered. His heart burned in his chest as the door closed. He held his breath. Minutes passed and all he could make out was the sound of muffled slow voices.

What if he was touching her.

What if right now he was tracing patterns on her skin, kissing her lips, having her hair in his fingers, as she gasped for oxygen. Her perfect body. Pressed against him. He groaned inwardly. What wizard would be able to resist her in that dress? That dress that showed off her fantastic shoulders and collarbones and _breasts._ He was almost hard at the thought of them but his desire was replaced by pain when he thought of Dean’s hands on her body, claiming her. Evoking sounds from her that were only meant for him.

Shit.

His possessiveness and jealousy had crawled out of him and he was so clouded by these emotions, he couldn’t begin to care about how unfair he was for thinking these things. 

Far too many minutes later, Hermione and Dean emerged from the closet. Hermione was smiling sweetly at Dean but she looked pretty much the same, and so did he. No ruffled clothes or flushed cheeks or red, bitten lips.

_Good._

Relief swept through him so fast he felt dizzy. She caught him looking and then her eyes darkened. She spun her face to Dean’s. “That was fun,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, real fun.” Dean nodded back enthusiastically.

His heart dropped.

 _Real fun._ Images of them together burned through him at lightning speed and he was so furious, so angry. Rage burned through him like fire and he was being consumed by the heat every time he looked at her or Dean. His hands on her skin. Every piece of him wanted to tear Dean’s body into pieces and then take Hermione right there and kiss the life out of her.

Annoyed it wasn’t socially acceptable to do anything like that, he brushed away whoever’s hands were on the bottle. “I’m spinning,” he grits out. He spun. How would Granger like it if he kissed another girl? _She probably wouldn’t care because she doesn’t want you anymore_ he thought dimly. He was sure that day in the library she had wanted him. But after his rejection, she’d clearly lost any kind of feelings she’d had and instead moved on to kissing Dean Thomas and doing merlin knows what.

The bottle spun. And then spun. And then it landed.

On Hermione Granger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very excited for the next chapter and hope you are too!!


	10. Seven Minutes In Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you scared?”  
> She watched the hypnotic sight of his chest rising and falling.  
> “Why would I be scared, Granger?”  
> Then, more silence.

The bottle landed on her.

In that moment, everything came rushing forward to Hermione - every small moment they’d had up until then would come to confront her in that closet, where there was no avoiding the memories of yearning gazes and the lightest of touches between them. It was so easy to pretend that every tiny tension-filled moment that had happened between them had been a joke, a fluke, something to forget about and dismiss as stupid. 

But as she walked over to the closet, pretending to smile - because this was so _ridiculous_ \- she could no longer ignore the truth of it - her attachment to Draco ran deep, deeper than she ever wanted to admit out loud.

She noticed Draco looked a little angry, probably because of what she’d said to Dean after they’d emerged earlier. She’d done it to rile him up, and it might have worked with the way his jaw was clenched but it could just be the alcohol in his system - that was probably it. Hermione still felt pretty drunk from before but the good kind, where things seemed a little softer and more beautiful. 

She heard the yelps and whoops of her friends as she closed the closet door and sat down in the squished, dark place. She felt Draco next to her, equally as cramped in the small space. 

Then, it was just them.

It was so quiet in there that Hermione was sure he could hear her pounding heart, could hear the trickle of sweat making its way down her back. 

“Hi,” she whispered.  
 _Oh god oh god oh god this is so bad._

 _  
_He was facing her and even in the dark, he was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Their eyes met.

  
“Hi,” he said back, his voice low.

“Are you scared?”

She watched the hypnotic sight of his chest rising and falling.

“Why would I be scared, Granger?”

Then, more silence.

Hermione’s spoke. “We don’t have to-”

“We could-” Draco paused.

“Sorry,” she said, “you go first.”

“We could...if you want. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

She regarded him a little woozily. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said finally.

“You could see how well I compete with Dean,” he suggested, innocently.

A giggle escaped her. “Do you think me and Dean really made out?”

“No,” he said quickly.

“ _You sure?_ ” her voice high and teasing.   
She swept her hand through her hair and the back down her neck, resting on her collarbones. His eyes tracked the movements, his gaze heated.  
  
The rules of real-life fell to the ground, the walls she’d put up came collapsing to the floor - she could worry about those things later. They were already so close, so she began to move on top of his lap, her hand on his knees and then on his shoulders. She realised the absolute absurdity of the situation then - that she was straddling Draco Malfoy in a sweaty closet, but she pushed all logic to the back of her mind. Which wasn’t hard with the drink in her system, and the lure of his sweet, earthy smell. 

She was face to face with him but he determinedly fixed his eyes at a point above her head so he didn't have to look at her.  
His voice was a growl. “No, I’m not sure.”  
“Would you hate it?” she said in a teasing voice. “Would you hate it if he had been touching me? Kissing me?”  
Malfoy’s hands were on either side of him on the floor, not touching her, but his arm twitched - did he want to touch her? Was he resisting the urge?  
“I don’t care Granger. I just know I’m better than him.”

“Show me,” she whispered as she spread her palm over his bare chest. 

His breath caught and he responded by bringing his arms up so his hands skimmed the very edges of her waist, barely touching her but suddenly, everything was hot and electric and she was dizzy with lust for him. 

His toned muscles, his beautiful skin, those haunting eyes, the burning touch of those hands.  
Her voice was a dare. “Show me you’re better than him.”

His resolve broke. His hands grabbed onto her waist, aggressive and harsh, and he pulled her closer on his lap and she gasped when she felt his erection.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” His voice was slow, deep and beautiful and the way he was speaking gave her the urge to rub her thighs together.

She nodded, speechless.

He was looking right into her eyes now and she had never felt so vulnerable, so turned on.

“Do you want this, Granger?” He was demanding, furious when he spoke.  
There was something delicious building here and she didn’t know if she could contain her desire for him any longer.  
So slow she couldn’t believe she was allowing this, she nodded.

“I’m not going to kiss you - not on the mouth” 

She was nodding - cursing herself inwardly for ever mentioning that mouth kisses were romantic for her - and then he was pulling her impossibly closer on his lap, lowering his mouth to her neck as he brushed his lips sweetly, briefly over her collarbone. It was the smallest of touches, the lightest of kisses, and yet she was giddy with the feeling of it. She wriggled and tangled her fingers in his hair. Merlin, she’d always wanted to do that. 

“More,” she pleaded, her voice breathy and faint. He hadn’t even done anything yet but with the feeling of his big hands holding onto her waist and his mouth brushing on her neck, she was a goner.

She felt him smile against her neck. 

He murmured something like _anything you want_ and then he was placing wet, furious, small kisses all over her neck, trailing his lips all the way down from her throat to her chest. Hermione felt heat all over, and she bit her lip to stop a moan escaping. She was so drunk and so addicted to the feeling of him that she didn’t think about the consequences of anything they were doing - she just knew it felt so _good._

She threw her head back, baring the column of her neck to him. He made a low, throaty noise and his kisses became more aggressive, more intense. He was devouring her, ravishing her like he couldn’t have enough. Intense heat, overwhelming need, delicious kisses, the delightful scrape of his teeth, the beautiful press of his mouth against her skin - and that tongue of his - it was almost too much. 

Everything felt loud and bright and perfect. She needed him - nothing else in the world existed but this moment, him and her. 

His mouth went over the cloth that covered her breasts, and she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her.

He paused and looked up at her earnestly. “Granger, you can tell me to stop.”

“No,” she bit out, her eyes closed, as she trembled with desire, “keep going.”

It was all he needed to hear - his mouth closed deliciously over her nipple through the flimsy cloth of her dress, and he bought his other hand up to fondle her other breast. It was overwhelming, his tongue and his hand bringing her a sweet, intense feeling. 

No one had ever done this to her before. 

“Malfoy,” she whined as her finger's gripped his hair tighter - but he only continued.

“You have wonderful tits, Granger. Always wondered what they would feel like underneath me.”

She gasped.

“Do you like this? Do you like my hands and my mouth on you? Have you been dreaming of it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she breathed. “Yes, Malfoy. _Please.”_

There was a knocking on the door.

Draco paused and bought himself up to look at her. 

“Time’s up! Get out of there lovebirds!”  
She saw the lust she felt reflected in his eyes.  
“Shit,” she muttered.  
What had just happened?  
She slid off his lap, readjusted her dress, and then stood up quickly.

“Shit,” she said again. 

Draco seemed just as lost as her. She knew she probably looked a mess - and that Ron, and everyone else, would know what they had done. As they emerged from the closet, she blinked rapidly as she took in reality - the world still existed and she had just let Draco Malfoy kiss her.

Before she had to think too much about what had just happened and before she even tried to spend the rest of the night feigning normalcy and talking to people as if she hadn’t just had an intense session with Draco, she apologised and said she had to leave - she wasn’t feeling good. 

The opposite was true - she felt like she was on cloud nine, in a temporary sort of bliss, with desire pulsing through her.  
Everything was a blur when she made it to her own room, and she fell into a restless sleep, the feeling of Draco’s mouth on her skin lingering in her mind and her dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh i'm so nervous to post this chapter but also so excited to have finally gotten to this point in the story!! let me know what you think!!!


	11. With You, It Feels Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah..” she sighed, remembering last night vividly. His skilful tongue, his large hands on her body, the feeling of her hands in his hair.
> 
> “Well, we’re going to need to do a spell to get rid of them,” Hermione said finally.
> 
> “Draco will be disappointed.”
> 
> “I don’t care what he thinks!”
> 
> “Leave one, just for him to see. Right here on your shoulder.”

Last night had been a mistake, she told herself as she got up for the day, as she brushed her teeth, made her bed, drew the curtains.  _ A big, big mistake.  _ And then she looked in the mirror and noticed them.

Love bites. 

Draco Malfoy had given her love bites! All over her neck! She knew she’d been consenting but for some reason, she’d expected last night to be slipped away into the past - that she wouldn’t have to think about it again. _Who are you kidding? You’re not going to be able to think about anything else for at least the next week._

Gingerly, she brought her fingers to the red marks painted across her neck and chest area. She needed to call for Pansy - this had all of a sudden become too real. 

She knew she needed to remove them immediately - the last thing she wanted was weird looks and creepy stares at her all day. Harry or Ron were sure to bring them up somehow if she left them there, and she wouldn’t even know how to begin to answer.  _ Yeah, so you know how last night Draco and I were locked in a closet together and no one thought anything would happen because we used to hate each other and it would be so absurd, so ridiculous. Well yeah anyway he gave me these love bites. And I actually quite like the look of them. Anyways, how are you doing Harry? _

Before she called for Pansy, she couldn’t help but think how much she didn’t want to be ridden of them. They were a sign that he had _ wanted  _ her - and that meant more to her than she could bear.

* * *

Draco was at breakfast whilst his friends engaged in conversation about the quidditch match and the party yesterday. Truth be told, he was a little hungover, and he was very, very distracted. Hermione Granger. How did everything lead back to her? How come every time he tried to think about  _ anything else  _ his mind brought him back the moments they’d shared in the closet?

* * *

Pansy gasped when she saw the state of Hermione’s neck. Then she laughed. 

“It’s not funny!” Hermione protested.

Regaining her composure, Pansy walked over and inspected Hermione. “No, it's not. Who gave these to you?”

Hermione had been holding back on telling Pansy anything about her and Draco this past week - in fear that Pansy would make it seem like she had a chance - she didn’t want the false hope. So she’d kept everything to herself - insisting nothing was happening at the library dates, or  _ after quidditch matche _ s. Pansy had been sceptical but hadn’t pushed her.

“Draco gave them to me.”

At that Pansy squealed. “No! I mean, yes. But...you told me…”

“I know,” Hermione. “But at the party last night-”

“Ah of course. When you were in the closet together.”

“Yeah..” she sighed, remembering last night vividly. His skilful tongue, his large hands on her body, the feeling of her hands in his hair.

“Well, we’re going to need to do a spell to get rid of them,” Hermione said finally.

“Draco will be disappointed.”

“I don’t care what he thinks!”

“Leave one, just for him to see. Right here on your shoulder.”

“But other people are going to see it!”

“So? All that matters is that he sees it, it’ll drive him mad Mione.”

“What if someone else asks about it?”

“Make up an excuse, you’re good at that. You could always say it was Dean.”

Hermione scoffed but didn't protest any further.

* * *

He spotted her coming in - a little late - to the breakfast table and his eyes tracked her every move. She didn’t look over at his table  _ \- why would she? - _ but then his eyes caught something. The almost bruise-coloured mark on her left shoulder.  _ She hadn’t gotten rid of it.  _ The thought drove him wild. He wanted to press her up against the dining table right now and fuck her so hard she forgot her own name.

_ Shit. _

He needed to get a grip. 

But then she looked up, catching him staring right at her.

Normally, he would stare back, just for fun, just to see her squirm, but he was losing his mind so he quickly looked away. He didn’t look at her for the rest of breakfast - his mind was preoccupied. Those moments in that dark cramped place yesterday. Her gorgeous breasts right in front of his face, her throat bared to him, her hair cascading over her shoulders and back.

How would he talk to her when all he could think about was taking off all her clothes and fucking her? Would she act normal the next time they spoke? Would she completely ignore him? Would she bring it up - want to take it further? He entertained the idea - her underneath him in his bed, how it would be.

_ No,  _ he couldn’t do this at the breakfast table. Scratch that, he could never do this - fantasize about her like one day it might actually happen. Because it wouldn’t - he would make sure that never happened. Fucking Granger would be like -  _ heaven.  _ It would be wrong, he told himself.  _ But merlin, imagine what she’d feel like clenched around your-  _

Draco groaned inwardly. This wasn’t working. 

He’d been a mess since last night, ever since they’d had those seven minutes together - those hellish, perfect moments. He’d wanted to live inside that closet forever - reality and day to day life was dull in comparison. In comparison to those brown, twinkling eyes of hers. He’d already wanked in the shower this morning and yet he found himself needing release again. He was entirely too horny to function normally. 

* * *

Hermione decided to ignore Draco until next Saturday which is when she’d have to talk to him again - at the library. She didn’t think she’d be able to talk to him or look him in the eyes, without her mind replaying last night’s events over and over again. 

Her plan, after two days of actively avoiding him, wasn’t working. He rushed after her after she emerged from a classroom. 

“Granger,” he shouted.

She walked faster but he caught up. She turned around, flustered. “What?”

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not.”

“We haven’t spoken in two days.” 

"And?" She tried to turn away from him but he twisted her around. 

“Look, can we talk about this?” She'd never seen him so serious. 

“I already know what you’re going to say. You were drunk, it was a game, it was a mistake. I’ve heard it all before.”

Well, that wasn’t too far from what he was going to say to her - was he that predictable?

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him with a clenched jaw. “Then, what were you going to say? I'm listening”

He stuttered and came up empty.

She sighed. “See you on Saturday, Malfoy.”

* * *

Draco missed her presence greatly - in meals, when hanging out with his friends, in quidditch practice. Sometimes, but only sometimes, he thought about her voice when she’d asked - no  _ pleaded _ , for more - how he would do anything to have her beneath him again, making those  _ sounds _ . Most of the time, however, he would miss the simple conversation he had with her, the way she smiled at him like he was worth her company. No one else made him that happy and he’d gone and  _ ruined  _ everything. He was so endlessly frustrated with himself but he knew he could fix this. He’d talk to her on Saturday, convince her to go back to how things were before. Before that drunken, stupid, mesmerising night. 

Saturday took too long to come and yet came all too quickly. Draco hoped it would be easy to talk to her - like it always was, and wasn’t mind shatteringly nerve-wracking. 

He was leafing through a book when she arrived and looked up. She looked gorgeous as always, and as always, he had a hard time keeping his eyes focused on just her face _. Her eyes widening when she realised how hard he was, her hands and fingers tangled in his hair. The breathy sounds she’d made, Her olive skin against his mouth. Her nipple in his mouth.  _

“Hi.” was all he managed to say. 

She didn’t smile at him, but she didn’t seem  _ angry _ at him. Instead of responding, she took her seat on the couch next to him and got to work. The silence usually comforted him but today, the tension in the room was driving him crazy. 

It was too much - he got up and walked over to a bookshelf. He couldn’t be near her like this - when she wasn’t speaking to him like usual. For a few minutes, he lost himself between the books - but then he heard a shuffling sound. He turned. 

“Can I help you with something?” his eyes drifted to her neck, where he’d kissed her.  _ The way she’d writhed under him as he’d planted kisses across her olive skin.  _

“Can we talk about it?”

He didn’t even try and feign innocence - he wanted to talk about it too. “The party?”

“Yes, Malfoy, the party.” She was standing directly in front of him and there wasn’t much space between the two bookshelves, so they were close.

“What do you want to talk about, exactly?” Merlin, he was having a hard time keeping himself composed. 

* * *

Merlin, she was nervous. She had no idea what she’d say and was scared any moment now she’d say the wrong thing and scare him off forever. “Uhm the bit in the closet.”

“Granger, we were both drunk. I think we should leave that in the past. If we could just go back to-”

“Leave it in the past?” her voice was disbelieving. 

“That’s what I said, no?”

She huffed in frustration. “Malfoy, you have to understand. I’ve never done anything like that before!”

He raised an eyebrow. “No one’s ever given you love bites?” he smirked smugly.

“No!” she exclaimed hotly. “Well, I mean I’ve never had that many. But what I mean is  _ That.  _ What we did- It has never felt like that before. ”

He turned his head away from her and took a deep breath. “Well, I’m glad to know you enjoyed it, Granger,” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“I-I don’t know,” she said, exasperated.

“Then I suggest we forget about it.”

“Why? Your raging hard-on tells me you enjoyed it as well.”

He let out a sharp laugh. “That’s just biology, Granger. Any man would react like that with a scantily clad witch _ straddling _ him.”

“Keep your voice down!” she hissed. “If I recall correctly you were hard before we’d even kissed.” She was smug when she said it. 

His face was flushed. “Alright, I was horny as fuck. So what?”

“So - So. So you wanted me!”

He cocked his head. “And?”

“Well,” she said, taking a confident step towards him. “Don’t you want to do it again?” Her voice dropped in pitch. “This time _uninterrupted_ .”

“Are you asking for  _ sex? _ ”

Her face flushed. “ _ No.  _ No. I just meant - we could…” she stuttered, unsure exactly what she wanted. 

This time, he took a step towards her so now they were so close he could see the rise and fall of her chest. 

He bent his head to whisper to her. “We could what, Granger? You’re not so good with words now it comes down to it. What do you want me to do? I could touch those marvelous tits of yours. Circle them with my tongue and have you begging for release. Or.” he said, leaning into her ear, whispering “I could put my fingers in your hot cunt and find out how wet you are for me. Would you like that? Is this what you want, _ Granger _ ?” his voice was pure fury and his breath on her skin made her shiver involuntary.

Her breaths were erratic - no one had ever spoken to her like that. She couldn’t say anything - couldn’t think with him this close, everything about him so far off-limits and yet so intoxicating.

Realising she wouldn’t respond, he pulled back and smiled. “That’s what I thought. Did I scare you Granger? This is why I said we should forget it. It's better that way. You’re too much of a prude for me.”

She snapped out of her lust-filled trance. “I am  _ not _ a prude.”

“Prove it.” the words slipped from his mouth - and he bit his lip as if he hadn’t meant to say it.

Now here was a challenge she wouldn’t back down from?

Maintaining eye contact with him, she reached down between his legs, and with shaky hands palmed his erection.   
Pleasure rolled through him. “Fuck,” he breathed out. She stared at him for a second, almost in disbelief. 

“You’re hard.”

“Are you surprised?”

“You- we haven’t even touched.’

“No, we haven’t. But just a second ago I was staring at this gorgeous, delicious-looking neck.”

She inhaled sharply.

“And that was quite a sight, Granger.”

“So I- this turns you on?” she choked out.

“Believe it or not, getting a boner isn’t always triggered by something sexual. It can happen randomly.”

“I know that.”

“Then why are you surprised?”

“You act like you don’t want me.”

“I don’t.”

She stared at the bulge in his trousers. “Your body is saying something very different.”

He ran a frustrated hand through hair. “Fuck.  _ Yes _ , Granger. You turn me on. You drive me absolutely mad. But we can’t do this. Last night was...I was angry, drunk. Not thinking straight.”

“Why angry?”

“None of your business.”

“Because of Dean?” 

“No, Not because of Dean.” 

“Because the idea of him touching me in that closet was more than you could bear?”

“Granger-”

“We only kissed and it was brief.”

His eyes widened. “But-”

“I just said that we had fun to get a reaction out of you.” She looked him up and down. “Clearly, it worked.”

“Why didn’t you go further with him?”

“Because it didn’t feel right,” she admitted.

“But with me-” He shook his head, realising what she was getting at. “Granger don’t- you can’t-”

“It’s true, Malfoy” she exclaimed desperately. “With everyone else, it feels...lukewarm almost. With you, it feels right, good, so  _ good _ . You’re the only one who makes me feel like that.”

He was shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m not doing this. I can’t.”

She grabbed onto his arm. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to, Granger.” He shook his arm forcefully free from her grip. “Is that not enough for you?”

“But you want  _ me _ , clearly.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I want a lot of witches, you’re not special.”

He didn’t apologize, even though he could see how hurt she was and desperately wanted to take the words back. But this had been exactly what he had been afraid of, her wanting, _ expecting  _ more. The spin the bottle game had been a mistake. Everything with her was a mistake - it would only have a sad ending.

She looked up at him. “I thought-”

“Well, you thought wrong. I told you I didn’t want more, Granger. I thought we were on the same page.”

“We were! We are!”

“Then drop the subject! Forget that night ever happened!”

“How can I?” she said, her voice rising. “How can I go back to being your friend when you gave me one of the best nights of my  _ life _ ?”

His voice was a growl. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

She shook her head. “It’s the truth, Malfoy. The things you did to me- I never wanted it to stop. I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if we hadn’t gotten interrupted if we had more time-”

He made a frustrated, angry noise - images of her sliding her dress down, her bare skin, her parting her legs for him. “Just stop, Granger. I told you all I want is your friendship. Stop making this difficult.”

She paused. “Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll forget it happened. We’ll continue being friends.”

His gaze softened. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much, Granger. You don’t know how much it means to me.” And then, without meaning to, he was enveloping her into a hug, so grateful that she’d still be here in his life because if she ever went, he thought he might die from the pain. He needed her. 

Hesitantly and heavily confused, she hugged him back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little longer than usual - but i hope you enjoyed it!! draco and hermione hugging makes me so soft i love them so much ;)


	12. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When she finally pulled away, she whispered in a shaky voice. “Stay.” Her voice was laced with vulnerability and hope - and something else he couldn't place. 
> 
> He hesitated.

It was late evening and as they ate dinner, McGonagall quieted them all to make some important announcements. The camping trip came as a surprise to all of them - and it completely threw Hermione off. 

She spoke out of turn, partly surprising the rest of the year. “But why? I simply don’t understand the purpose.”

McGonagall sighed a little. “Hermione I understand that you don’t have the best experience...with tents and camping out in woods. But I can promise this will be a safe, important activity for everyone - and hopefully, will encourage bonding between the houses. This is a time for all of us to unite with each other in a way we haven’t before. I hope you’re looking forward to it as much as I am.”

Hermione felt like kicking something - an irrational fear rose up in her. She no longer had nightmares like right after the war - she had started taking nightly potions for that - but she had a feeling that they wouldn’t block out the memories of being hunted by Voldemort, fearing for her life everyday out in the woods. She refused to relive a single minute of those times. Things were finally getting better for her - she no longer felt incessantly haunted by those memories. Of course, she had moments where she relapsed - where she was living through the battle again, where she saw the sadness in her parent’s eyes as she obliviated them.

Her palms felt clammy. She realised that the rest of her year was still there, but she stood up hastily. “I have to go,” she muttered - no one heard but they all watched her intently as she rushed her out of the room.

* * *

Draco watched her scurry out of The Great Hall and he immediately wanted to follow - but how would that look to everyone?  _ Hermione’s hurting and all you care about is about your reputation. You’re better than this.  _ Fuck it, he got up, his chair scraping across the floor. In the dim glow of the lanterns in the hall, everyone turned to look at him.  _ Goodness.  _ He quickly strode out of the room. McGonagall looked at him a little surprised but continued addressing the year calmly.

He knew where Hermione - since when did he refer to her as that? - would be: the library. It was a place that calmed her, bought her peace and he walked as fast as he could. He discovered her curled up on a leather couch, her head tucked into her neck.

“Granger,” he murmured softly. She looked up at him through her curls, which cascaded in beautiful waves over her shoulders and back. 

“What are you doing here?” she murmured quietly. Her voice sounded like she was on the edge of tears and his heart broke a little.

“I came to find you,” he answered honestly. 

“I would much rather be left alone.” Her voice was still muffled as she was pressed into herself.

He slowly walked over and then sat next to her, him sitting up on the couch and her feet almost touching his thighs. “You don’t have to go, Granger. You could always stay.”

“And look like a coward?”

“No one will think you’re a coward.”

“I don’t want to stay in a lonely Hogwarts.”

“It won’t be lonely. All the other years will still be here.”

She peeked up at him and shook her head. “You don’t get it.”

He felt a twinge of pain in his chest. “Then explain it to me.”

She was quiet for a bit and then she spoke. “I know I don’t have to go. It’s that I _ want  _ to go. I want to be strong enough that it doesn’t affect me. I hate that it does.”

“Granger, you’re the bravest witch I know.”

“Yeah?”

“Without you, I don’t even know if Voldemort would be dead. You’re smart and so, so clever. And bold. And brave, so brave Granger. Have you forgotten that?”

She was quiet for a bit and then he realised the arm of her sweater was wet.

“Are you crying?” His voice was small and gentle.

She hiccuped a laugh. “What do you think?”

Tentatively, he placed his hand on her arm and squeezed. “Are you crying because of what I said or…”

“I’m not sure why I’m crying, Malfoy.” She sounded like she was smiling.

“Well, if you do decide not to go - I’ll stay with you.” he hadn’t exactly planned on saying that but it felt right to say.

At that she sat up, dabbing her eyes with her sleeves. She looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want you to be all alone.”

She smiled and he thought he would have burnt cities down to make her smile like that again. “Thank you. But I think I’m going to go. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the fun.”

“Being here with you sounds like fun enough to me.”

She was sad again. “No.” She shook her head. “I have to face my fears.”

He put an arm around her and began rubbing circles on her shoulder. “See what I mean? Bravest witch I know.”

She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder, and he pulled her closer so she could cuddle up against him properly. They sat there for he didn’t know how long - he just knew he had to be there for her, at that moment, because she needed comfort. He could get used to the feeling of her head on his shoulder.

* * *

McGonagall had only given them two days to prepare for the trip. Every time Hermione would think about it she would dig her nails into a palm until it left marks, until it was painful. But for those two days, Malfoy came to her in the library and simply just sat with her, or distracted her with a story from their early years at Hogwarts. It worked to keep her mind off other things - and he was funny when he wanted to be. Those moments with him - well, hours - where he’d optionally spend time with her felt so good, and so warm. They calmed her down. 

On that Friday night, in groups, they apparated to the forest they would be staying in for three days. It was around 7:00pm when most groups had finished setting up their tents. She hadn’t seen Draco for the whole day, they’d both been busy - him with doing the actual things they’d been assigned, her worrying. Things had been fine so far - she hadn’t panicked or burst into an uncontrollable fit of tears - that was surely a win. 

The year had been split up into groups of twenty - not by houses, but by whoever McGonagall thought was compatible. Luckily, she’d been placed with practically all her friends, including Draco. 

Slughorn, the teacher assigned to their group, brought them together to sit around a fire he’d lit with his wand. He called them over and everyone groaned, tired from setting up tents and the stress of the trip - everyone just wanted to go to their tents and sleep. 

“You should be appreciating this folks! This is the only night you’ll be able to relax - tomorrow you’ll be up doing lots of activities.” 

Everyone reluctantly sat around the fire. Hermione chose her seat next to Pansy, and Harry instead of sitting next to her, sat next to Pansy. That meant no one was sitting to her right. Draco had walked over and their eyes met. 

Her mouth opened, then closed. Did she want him sitting next to her? What was the big deal anyways? Sod Ron. 

“Do you want to sit next to me?” she offered shyly.

The moonlight cast a glow on his face and his ivory skin glowed, making him look like a god of sorts. He nodded. 

“Sure, why not?”

His large frame came to sit beside her and she forced herself to remain calm but she was already staring at him, smiling like an idiot. Then she tore her eyes away and saw Ron glaring at her. 

“I was going to sit there,” he said angrily.

“Well, Malfoy’s sitting here. There’s still loads of space-”

“You’d rather have him sit next to you than me?”

She was aware of the rest of the group watching her. She was also keenly aware of Malfoy watching her intently.

“Ron, the last time we spoke you couldn’t even form a full sentence! Why would I want to sit next to you?” She realised how harsh she was being - which was very unlike her but really, Ron was being ridiculous. They hadn’t spoken properly in weeks and now he acted like he had the right to treat her like they were best friends?

“So you’re fine with sitting next to a guy who called you a _mudblood_ ?”

She stiffened and she felt Draco still next to her. The group of witches and wizards had also paused in their conversation, eager to see how this fight would go down. Hermione couldn’t care about them right now.

Harry interjected, “Ron you need to calm down this-”

“No. It's okay Harry. I can-” she took a deep breath. “You know everyone changed after the war right? Well, I thought everyone. Clearly not you.”

Ron’s face twisted into pure fury. “I can’t believe you, Mione.”

“I can’t believe you! Why would you bring that up? You already know how hard this trip has been for me-” her voice cracked. She couldn’t do this. How could she be fighting with Ron? She felt like she was in the seventh year all over again, shouting at him, angry at him. She felt like they were in those times again - Voldermort was coming, she was shaking.

Draco sensed her fear. He placed a protective hand on her shoulder. “Weasely, you’re upsetting her - are you that dense? Just fucking leave her alone.”

“She’s not your witch!” Ron protested.

“Well, she’s not yours either so piss off.”

Draco’s was shooting daggers at Ron with his stare - promising a fight that Ron was sure to regret - and so slowly the red-headed boy just scowled and relented, sitting next to Harry, who whispered angrily to him.

Hermione turned to Malfoy. “Thank you.” 

He gave her a warm look. “Any time.” 

The rest of the group gawked at Hermione and Draco’s closeness but Pansy just gave a knowing grin. The rest of the night passed splendidly. Hermione was joking with the whole group - save, Ron who still seemed to be sulking - and as they roasted marshmallows in the fire, Hermione felt like she truly belonged.

“Man, this fire is beautiful,” Pansy remarked.

“Beautiful?” Harry’s voice.

Pansy grinned. “Yeah? It creates these really nice looking shadows on your face.”

Hermione didn’t miss the pink in Harry’s cheeks. Trust Pansy to flirt with her best friend. 

“Yeah?” Harry dared. “What kind of shadows?”

“Well,” Pansy’s voice drawled and then she was tracing Harry’s face with a feather light touch - showing him exactly what kind of shadows.

* * *

Hermione was sharing her tent with Pansy, and the tent right next to hers belonged to Harry and Ron. Tent sharing was limited to the same sex only -  _ for safety reasons,  _ as McGonagall had put it. 

Essentially, they wanted people focused on the tasks and not on shagging each other. Still, she knew most people would probably sneak out during the night for love-making sessions. The forest was a beautiful place and she imagined the edge of the woods, which overlooked a waterfall, where the moon peeked through would be a perfect spot to makeout.

She felt herself redden at the thought - it's not like she would be sneaking off to have a little rendezvous. Much to Pansy’s disappointment, she had let go of the idea of Draco being her boyfriend. Whatever they’d had, she knew it would never be that way and she was coming to just enjoy his simple company, the comfort he bought her. It was enough, she told herself, over and over again. Only at night, would she dare to dream of him in that way. 

Later that night, Hermione, after tossing and turning for an hour, finally fell asleep in her not so comfortable sleeping bag. Her dreams were violent and bloody - there was wind thrashing through trees - blurred faces coming for her. And then Bellatrix's face in front of her - and then screaming. So much of it. Pain in her wrist so intense. 

_ Stop  _ screamed in her head.  _ Please just stop.  _

She woke up sweating and breathing heavily. It was so completely dark and the softness underneath her reminded her of mud and leaves and running through those woods faster and faster. Bellatrix’s face was in front of her again. 

* * *

Draco hadn’t been able to sleep - truth be told he hadn’t wanted to share with Theo. He wanted to share with her, Granger. And so almost subconsciously, hours past the curfew, he crept out of his tent. Unsure of which tent was hers, he passed each one as quietly as he could, hoping he’d recognize it somehow. What was his plan anyways?

Then, he heard heavy breathing, choking gasps coming from a tent nearby.  _ Hermione.  _

“Granger?” his voice was slow and tentative. When she didn’t speak, he ducked his head and made his way closer to, casting _ luminous _ with his wand. It was only then he could properly see Hermione’s small, terrified face. She looked pale and clammy and her chest was heaving. He knelt on the uneven floor next to her. 

“Hey.” He placed an arm on the back of her neck - merlin, her skin was burning. Her eyes were wide with panic. “I have to go- I have to run. They’re after me.”Her voice was low and urgent.

“Granger, it's not real. It was just a dream.” She shook her head and she started trembling all over. He shook her a little and at that she seemed to realise her surroundings. Her eyes were still unfocused and she took in his face.

“Malfoy?”

“Yes?”

She ran a hand through her hair tentatively, as if she was checking if she was real.

“I- I was having a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “I’m glad you’re here.” her voice was a whisper. Some part of her was clearly still stuck in the dream - he could tell from her erratic breathing and the way her eyes were fluttering open and close. 

Heart breaking in his chest - an ache he had never felt for anyone gripping his heart - he instinctively pulled her close into his chest and she sighed. The way she held him felt like she was saying  _ I need you, Draco.  _ Feeling her tears fall onto his t-shirt, he hugged her closer to him. He didn’t mind there’d be a wet patch on him. 

When she finally pulled away, she whispered in a shaky voice. “Stay.” Her voice was laced with vulnerability and hope - and something else he couldn't place. 

He hesitated.

“Wait - forget I said anything. I shouldn’t bother you.”

“No, Granger, that’s not- I want to stay. But what if someone found us in the morning?”

She looked disappointed and annoyed. “I said go!”

There was still fear in her eyes and - he couldn’t leave her like this, wouldn’t.

“I’m staying,” he said gently. He dragged Pansy’s now empty sleeping bag next to her and then shuffled in. 

As he lay down, his eyes scanned the tent. “Where’s Pansy?”

“Probably sneaked off to Harry’s tent. I’m not sure.” 

They lay facing each other in the dark. Without even meaning to, he reached out his hand to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. His breath was caught in his throat, being so close to her at night like this. She stiffened under him but didn’t protest to his action. So he did it again and again and repeated the motion until he saw her fall into a deep sleep. Merlin, she looked so peaceful next to him, and so beautiful. The ache in his chest was overwhelming - he felt so much for her. He wanted to protect her, laugh with her, be close to her, _love her._ He was to tired address the thoughts he was having and soon he was also asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little nervous at the direction i've taken the story but i hope you enjoy it! it's pretty much gonna be just soft dramoine moments for a bit (because of last chapter) but I DO wanna write some hot moments between them, just not right now. also my chapters just keep getting longer and longer - oops.


	13. Greedy

He woke to her arms draped over his back, her head tucked underneath him so her hair was tickling his chin. For a minute, he didn’t move - struck by how right she felt against him, how she melted into his embrace, how perfect and beautiful she was this close - and for a second, just a second, he thought waking up every day with her in his arms wouldn’t be so bad - _it would be everything_. He didn’t want to wake her - especially after her nightmares so he didn’t move. But surely he couldn’t stay like this...it wasn’t...what  _ was _ the problem exactly? What was so wrong about this when she felt so warm?  _ Stay  _ she had said _.  _ He closed his eyes, settling against her.  _ I will, Hermione. I will stay until the very end.  _

* * *

She woke up in his embrace and took a second to let the feeling of his hard chest against her, to admire his ivory hair, the peaceful look on his gorgeous face as he slept. Then she snapped out of it. Godric, this was embarrassing - she had practically tangled herself around him while she’d been asleep - he certainly wouldn’t like that. Slowly, she untangled her limbs from him and returned to the comfort of her own sleeping bag. Despite her body immediately missing his warmth, she got up for the day and got ready.

* * *

The remaining three days of the camping trip passed surprisingly well. Hermione didn’t plan to team up with Draco for any of the activities but both her best friends - Harry and Pansy had decided to team up for  _ everything  _ and Ron certainly wasn’t an option. Which left Draco, who also didn’t have anyone to pair up with. She grumbled complaining that she’d ended up with but secretly she was ecstatic. 

They hadn’t exactly talked about sleeping in the same tent - let alone waking up to each other. Draco had pretty much left when he realized it was morning and Hermione had already risen and none of them seemed particularly enthusiastic to talk about it. 

Draco gently reassured her that if she ever had a nightmare again, he would always be there for her and she thanked him quietly. 

Keeping their minds on the fun of doing muggle activities in these woods was easier than to think about the hard memories, the difficult things - those things crept in at night, without a doubt. During the day, it was sunny skies and Draco’s gentle hand on her back as she nearly slipped on a muddy trail. It was the red in his cheeks when Hermione had accidentally called him handsome on their walk to collect wood together. It was her smile at him as he made a stupid joke about pinecones. It was her hair getting tangled in a zip and tears of laughter leaking from her eyes as he used his wand to help her, his grin as wide as hers. It was the way when they’d climbed trees Draco kept a protective glare on her, making sure she didn’t injure herself. It was them taking late-night hikes, while they talked about the smallest of things - gingerbread cookies and the way the moon shone and sometimes the sadder things, Hogwarts before the war, Hogwarts after the war. 

They didn’t feel united by their pain, though it was something they shared, but rather the gentle ease and lightness that being together bought them. And during their nightly walks they had as they made their way back to the gentle glow of a campfire, trudging through leaves, wood in their hands, laughter in her stomach, Hermione thought  _ this was more than enough. This was good.  _

O f course, she had Harry, one of the greatest friends she could’ve asked for, but she hadn’t made a new friend in so long, and presenting herself to someone in a way she liked, in a way that felt true felt like freedom. Draco felt the same. 

It was only when she was away from him, in the tent, on her own did she think  _ I want to run my fingers through his hair. I want to kiss him and look at his face after I pull away. I want him to give me a forehead kiss whenever I feel scared. I want him to kiss me. Everywhere. I want more.  _ She felt greedy, he had already told her that he wanted her friendship and nothing else.  _ So why is it not enough? Why am I so selfish?  _ Her mind was cast back to the day in the library when he’d hugged after she’d agreed to being friends. He wanted her, he’d admitted that, but that didn’t mean she was special.  _ Biology, he'd said. Sh _ e scoffed. How stupid to think Draco Malfoy would ever want her? With the past they’d shared, it would be absurd. What was she thinking? She’d  _ hated  _ him. And now she was starting to think the opposite. 

And then, because it was becoming a nightly routine, she closed her eyes, settling into sleep, and began to replay the drunken night where Draco had touched and kissed her in the sweltering closet.

* * *

The last day of the camping trip came all too soon and before they apparated back to Hogwarts, it was decided they have one last walk through the forest. Pansy had no way to escape and before she even tried to slip away to Harry, Hermione tugged harshly at her sleeve. “Pans!”

“What? Don’t you wanna hang with Draco?”

She chanced a look over at him. The students were gathered together in a somewhat haphazard line, as they passed the scenic view of the rural lands, but he was distracted.

“Pans, I want to talk to you.  _ My best friend. _ ”

Pansy smiled. “Well, that’s good. I always tell myself I’m not the type of girl to abandon my friendships when I start dating a guy but I always...end up being that girl.”

Hermione gaped at her. “You’re dating Harry?”

“Keep your voice down! And we’re not official...yet.” She raised her eyebrows and scrunched her nose - delighted. 

“Have you- I mean, tell me everything!”

“Mione, I’m sure you don’t want to know  _ everything.  _ But we’ve had some amazing make-out sessions these past few days. It's been - well, a real dream.”

“Wow- I’m so happy for you.” Something stung in her heart - the image of her two best friends on the cliffside, watching the sunset, lost in each other’s eyes. It made her happy but felt a deep longing to have that herself. Ron had never been particularly romantic. 

“Seriously, Harry’s a great kisser. I don’t know why you passed up on that opportunity.”

The ache in her chest died as she swatted Pansy on her arm. “Pans! He’s my best friend! Don’t be so absurd!”

“I’m just teasing, Granger. I know very well that you want to snog Draco.”

Hermione turned her head away to hide her red face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this update is late and this chapter is incredibly short - promise the next one will be much longer!! I really enjoyed writing this soft dramoine friendship.


	14. Fireworks

After the camping trip, everything resumed as usual. Studies continued and Hermione attended her weekly library dates with Draco, which she always enjoyed. The tension between them always felt palpable but Hermione reminded herself that Malfoy was unaffected by any sort of desire for her. She was alone in her feelings for him and slowly she was getting used to it. At least she had him in her head. 

Weeks passed easily - Hermione was happy, between studies and hanging out with Pansy and Harry (and raising her eyebrows at their blooming romance), the warmth she felt with Draco and the bubble of laughter she felt at any awkward interactions with Ron whenever she had to interact with him - things were _okay_. 

Soon enough, she found herself settling into the easy routine for things. Pansy had bugged her about Draco a little but Hermione had told her to simply give up on it - it had been a thing, but it was clear Draco wasn’t interested in her like that. The stab of disappointment was never easy to ignore but she did her best.

She was in the library pouring over a specific book with Draco. His warm skin brushed against hers whenever he turned the pages and they were close, deliciously so. Hermione revelled in their embrace, his arms near her face as they leafed through a book together. How good it felt to be against him. In another world, she’d tilt her head and place a soft kiss on his lips and giggle. 

In another world.

\---

Hermione was startled when she heard a noise from behind her and subsequently, knocked the book out Draco’s hand to fall onto the floor next to her feet. Draco immediately leaned over her legs to retrieve the book but at that moment Ron walked in and his eyes were wide in disbelief. Hermione knew what it looked like - Draco was leaning over her bare legs while she sat on the couch. Draco’s face popped up from above her torso and he smiled. “Hello, Weasely.”

Ron stammered. “What in the world?”

Hermione stammered. “Oh-uh! That was n _ot_ what it looked like! Malfoy was picking up a book from the floor.” She wrung her hands together. “Right, Malfoy?”

“That’s correct,” Draco confirmed as he twisted on the couch to face the ginger-haired boy. 

“Well, why the bloody hell did he have to lean over you like that?”

Her face tinged crimson. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal Ronald.” Hermione felt incredibly hot all of a sudden. Why did he have to lean over her legs like that? She could’ve gotten the book herself.

* * *

The warm glow of the lamp illuminated Hermione in a way that Draco could only describe as beautiful. 

Draco shifted on his seat, taking a proper look at Weasley. “Tell you what, why don’t you do what you came here to do and then piss off. I don’t know if you can tell, but me and Granger were _busy.”_ He could tell that Weaselbee wanted to throw a punch at him by the way he was clenching his fists. He was down for a fight - but just now right now, as it would cut into his precious time with Granger. 

Ron glared at him. “I came here to ask Hermione if she wants to come to the party tomorrow night. It's late notice because Theo didn’t want the teachers knowing about it.” 

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. “I mean, why ever not? Parties are permitted - we’re adults.”

Ron chuckled. “I don’t think the teachers would be okay with the things people are doing at _these_ flipping parties.”

Granger began - “I don’t understand. What do you mean by-”

Oh god. She truly didn’t know. He wanted to save her from the embarrassment as quickly as possible. “They’re a lot more sexual than the usual ones. Like really sexual. Like people fucking in public kinda sexual.”

Hermione’s jaw practically dropped. “ _What?”_

“You telling me you’ve never been to one?” Draco’s voice was rough. 

Hermione bit her tongue. “The parties I’ve been to are never like that though.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Are you going to come then?” Weasely’s’s voice grated on his nerves. 

“I...I suppose. I’ll have to find something to wear and make sure it doesn’t cut into anything I have tonight.”

“Oh, Hermione come off it. Halloween is one of your favourite celebrations, you wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Hermione grinned at Ron. “You’re right. I love Halloween. So that settles it, I’ll come.”

Draco’s fist closed at his side. He hadn’t known that she liked Halloween that much. He _wanted_ to know things like that about her. He wanted to know her favourite song, the things that helped her sleep, the things that made her laugh, the type of movies she liked to watch at the end of a long day. He wanted to know her so intimately it hurt him to think about how he would never - never have her, never deserve her.

“Well, are you coming?” He realised that Hermione was talking to him.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a party like that for the world.” He flashed a charming grin at her. 

She scoffed. 

* * *

Hermione was very sexually frustrated and the drink in her system only furthered the feeling festering inside her. She was annoyed with Malfoy - why the fuck did his mere presence and that stupid grin of his turn her on so much? And why was he so damn serious about everything? (she noted vaguely she was a pretty serious person when sober) Could they just not fucking hook up _once?_

And where even was he? She hadn’t seen him since they’d arrived where she’d smiled politely at him and complimented his outfit. He hadn’t said anything about her low cut dress, but she didn’t miss the way his eyes hungrily took in his legs.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking. The alcohol was making it hard to think. He was probably fucking a girl - which every boy seemed to be doing tonight.

Slightly peeved that Pansy was too busy with Harry to hang out with her tonight, she took another painful sip of a drink she didn’t know the name of. 

Malfoy had been right about these kinds of parties - while the others she’d attended had always felt like casual get togethers and fun drunk dancing sessions, this party felt...intense. 

The whole room was cloaked in red and green lights, meaning everywhere she looked there were glimpses of silhouettes and shadows - people weren’t even discrete about what they were doing _in public_. 

The air was thick with the smell of illegal substances and a faint smell of sweat - it wasn’t exactly pleasant but at this point, she didn’t care. 

She spotted Ron aggressively making out with a blonde-haired girl through the violent flashing strobes of light spinning around the room. 

That was the last straw. 

Frustrated in every way, she grabbed the nearest man to her and brought him close. She wasn’t even sure of the boy's names - he wasn’t in any of her classes - but her hands were suddenly all over his body.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” she slurred. 

The blond-haired boy didn’t respond instead bringing his wine tasting lips to hers. It was a sloppy kiss but it felt so good to kiss someone - she’d forgotten what it was like. She grew more agitated and pulled the golden haired boy aggressively by the hair, yanking him closer. 

Their bodies were plastered to each other and Hermione could barely breathe with how much they were kissing. Desire raged around inside her, and boldly, she reached down to palm the boy between his legs. 

“Upstairs?” He groaned against her. 

“Mm.” She said, pulling away. “Yes.” She was desperately out of breath. 

She needed a good fuck. Well, she doubted the boy’s talents but at least she would feel _something._

In the back of her mind, she knew she never did stuff like this. It was stuff Pansy always bugged her about - _loosen up! Casual sex is okay! Not everything has a meaning to it!_ But she was drunk and annoyed and sad and couldn’t give a fuck about morals or her preconieved notions. For goodness sake, she was horny as fuck. 

In a blur he had shoved them upstairs and into a random room, slamming the door shut, and pressing her up against a wall. She let out a whimper as he roughly tugged her dress up her legs. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Adrian.”

"You got a condom?"

He nodded and began reaching for the hem of her skirt, lifting itup it up. Cool air brushed against her bare skin and she shivered. Realisation rippled through her slowly as her knickers were being bought down.

“Wait.”

The boy’s movement paused, his hand briefly lingering on the black cloth.

“I- I don’t think I’m ready to do that.”

“Oh!” He moved his hand away bring them to cross between his head. “I’m confused. Why did you bring me up here?”

“I-uh, well. I did want to, But, nowm” she said nodding her head slowly. “I don’t. Uh, sorry?”

He shrugged. “Sure...You wanna make out?”

“Sure.” she smiled at him. 

He bought his face towards her and kissed her harshly, stealing the air from her lungs. This Adrian boy was pretty good at kissing, and Hermione felt pleasure hum through her. Now that she had made it clear she didn’t want sex, ease spread through her - a drunken makeout was more like her, rather than a drunken hookup. At least now she wouldn’t have any regrets. She gripped onto his shoulders to bring him closer when she heard a voice calling her name from outside. Shit. She pulled away and before Adrian could protest she pressed a finger to his lips. Several things went through her mind when she realised Draco was looking for her whilst shouting her name: she could continue kissing Adrian and let him walk in on them, she should hide Adrian in the room before he found her, or she could just stand completely still like an idiot. 

It was too late to really decide on anything in particular because then Draco had pushed opened the door.

* * *

He took in the sight of her messy hair and smudged makeup, and the boy next to her whose clothes were crumpled and his lips looked bitten. 

_ Oh.  _

He shouldn’t have been surprised but for a minute he was. “Well, I didn’t expect to walk on  _ this. _ ”

“You didn’t walk in on anything. Adrian and I were just...talking.”

He gave her a once over. “Whatever, I don’t really care. I came to find you because downstairs they’re going to light up all the halloween decorations at once. I thought you wouldn’t want to miss out.”

“Oh? Now?” She looked at Adrian and grabbed his hand. Draco watched the movement. Hermione was already floundering her way to the door. “Well, let’s go! I don’t want to miss it!”

* * *

They hurried down the stairs and joined the cluster of people speaking in hushed whispers and the room was slowly darkened. They were all standing in a room but the wall had been taken down so they were looking out into the darkness of the outside. It was chilly in here and Malfoy could hardly make out any figures. He didn't know where Adrian was...and he was sure he had seen the curl of Hermione's hair but he couldn't make out where she was. 

“Granger,” he hissed. 

“Here,” she whispered back. He reached out his hand to find her and he brushed over a disturbing amount of people and still didn’t feel her. “Granger!” he said again, agitated. 

“I’m in front of you.”

“Wh-”

_ Oh.  _ She had backed up into him and was pressing against the length of his body. 

“Feel me now?” she whispered angrily to him.

“Uh, uh... yeah.” He didn’t recognize his own voice.

“Now be quiet. I want to enjoy this.”

He didn’t respond, too mesmerised by the view that unfurled in front of him. Lights began to glow one by one in front of him, all different shades of orange and red. Pumpkins glowed in the corner and as the lights continued to be turned on, they formed a message that said: HAPPY HALLOWEEN. The silk of her dress shifted against him. He heard whoops and claps in front of him as he realised the magnificence of the light show. 

Then from the middle of the display, a small firework floated into the sky. He heard Hermione gasp against them and was made even more aware of the way her body melded against him. Then, when he thought the show was over, more fireworks emerged in the sky, loud and beautiful. He watched in awe - and was strangely aware of how perfect it felt - the cool breeze through the sweaty room, the drink in his system making everything have a hazy glow, the way he could feel Hermione smiling - though not see it - the colours flashing before his eyes. For that one beautiful moment, Draco Malfoy was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, i'm so sorry for the slow update! Things have been kinda weird for me lately - idk how often more updates will come - hopefully once a week? This is also a pretty short chapter and i'm not the proudest of how it's written but i hope publishing it will motivate me! thanks for reading <3


	15. Well, I’m Very Sensitive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you turned on right now?”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “You heard me.”
> 
> She gulped nervously. What was he playing at?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please re-read the last chapter!! I rewrote the whole thing 2 days ago and so is very different to what you first read and it's important to the story.

Hermione hadn’t  _ meant  _ to back up against him like that. But she was drunk and annoyed and he hadn’t protested so what was the problem? Friends did that stuff all the time...Right? Whatever.

She was tired of deciphering his behaviour - she could study books and spells with ease but when it came to him, she came up empty - he was so damn confusing. What didn’t help was what she happened to hear on Friday evening. Or rather, what she saw. 

She was making her way to the library to do some reading when she heard voices outside a broom closet. She usually would’ve breezed past - people messed about all the time, it was none of her business - but she picked up on a voice she’d been dreaming about for weeks - Draco’s. 

Curiosity overtook her and she slowly moved to the gap in the door, pressing herself against the wall. She saw the side of his face and… another girl’s? She had brown short hair but she couldn’t make out much else from the angle she was standing at. They were standing close and Draco was muttering angrily at her. She watched intently as the scene unfolded before her. 

The girl didn’t seem scared, just shy. Straining to hear what Draco was being so angry about, she caught his harsh whisper of “shut up” before he pressed his mouth furiously against hers. She heard the girl gasp in surprise and at that point, she knew she should leave. This wasn’t something she was supposed to see. But she couldn’t tear herself away from the scene. Her eyes were glued to the sight of Draco kissing a girl and her feet wouldn’t move. She watched as he became more aggressive, his hand possessively wrapping around her throat. 

Damn, he was  _ rough _ . 

The girl was whimpering and Hermione didn’t blame her - Draco was being extremely rough with his kisses and hands, grabbing her flesh and planting angry kisses all over her exposed skin. Hermione expected to feel jealous of the scene, and though there was a raw scrape of something inside of her, most of all she just felt incredibly turned on. 

Guiltily, she imagined herself in place of the girl, that it was her neck and lips and skin he was assaulting. That it was her he was whispering angrily to. She could almost feel his breath on her neck and she pressed her thighs together. 

She needed to leave - this was so fucking wrong.

Draco’s hand reached for the girl’s skirt and she pulled away. Hermione recognized the shyness in her eyes.

“I’m a little inexperienced,” she mumbled quietly, looking up at Draco with doe eyes. 

Hermione’s breath hitched - curious to see his reaction to the diversion of the makeout session.

She expected him to just tell the girl to fuck off or shut up and stop annoying him but instead, to her absolute surprise, she saw his demeanour soften. 

He placed the back of his palm against her cheek and leaned closer to her. “We can stop if you want. Or,” his voice so quiet and soft she had to strain to hear. “I could teach you.” 

_ Oh merlin, the way he said that.  _ She felt herself get wet just at him saying those words in that delicious voice of his. 

The girl bit her lip and nodded.

At the sight of Draco drawing himself passionately to the girl’s lips, almost devouring her, Hermione shut her eyes.

This was too much. 

Heart beating fast - the fear of getting caught or the desire she didn’t know - she peeled herself away from the scene, and slowly continued on her walk to the library. She hadn’t seen anything - she’d just been wanting to read. 

She hadn’t seen anything. But oh she had. 

She didn’t focus much in her evening studies - her mind kept replaying the images in her mind, the way he’d handled her, spoke to her...she’d never been so jealous and disgusted at herself in her whole life. She told herself that she hadn’t been  _ that _ aroused by Draco kissing another girl but the state of her kickers proved otherwise. 

* * *

Draco couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the back of Hermione’s head disappearing around the corner as he’d kissed Mia. It had been so quiet in that room - he’d wanted to be gentle around Mia’s vulnerability in that moment. As he’d bought her in for a kiss, he heard a sharp intake of her breath and caught the slither of someone with chestnut curls fleeing from sight. Someone had seen them. Not just someone.

Hermione.

He’d recognize her hair anywhere. But what the fuck had she been doing? And just how much had she seen? And why had she just walked away instead of walking in? In the moment, he’d decided he would think about all that later. He paused the kiss to go close the door and then ended up fingering Mia until she was writhing on his fingers. She hadn’t been ready for sex - and that was fine, he didn’t mind getting her off.

Afterwards, he left with no promise of ever interacting with her again - which wasn’t anything out of the usual. He hadn’t hooked up with someone in a while - mostly because he felt he needed to focus on himself. But he’d had pent up frustration - and even though the girl hadn’t gotten him off (he’d taken care of  _ that  _ later) it had felt good to be somewhat intimate with someone. He liked knowing he had that power over girls.

Tomorrow was his and Hermione’s usual Saturday morning library date - he was somewhat excited to confront her. He had a feeling that she would be terribly embarrassed and that bought him some sort of sadistic joy.

* * *

Draco was usually the first to be in the library, Hermione always came in about five minutes later to join him but this time - this time he wanted to catch her by surprise. He lingered at the breakfast table for longer than usual and when he felt like it had been long enough, he made his way to the library. As usual it was incredibly empty and silent. 

He spotted her browsing through some shelves, and with a kick of his heart, he sneaked up behind her and poked her in the ribs. With a squeal she turned around, grinning, her cheeks flushed. She was wearing a low cut navy blue cardigan today that fitted tight against her body - she looked gorgeous. 

“Malfoy, you need to stop sneaking up on me!”

He grinned. “Really? I find it rather fun.”

“Well, I’m very sensitive.” She was still smiling, a twinkle in her eyes stealing the breath from his lungs.

“Mm, I’m sure you are.”

A giggle escaped her and she began to push him off. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to work.”

“No, you don’t.” He pushed her softly back against the shelves.

“ _ Malfoy. _ ”

“What?” His voice dripped with false innocence.

“Let me go.”

“I’m not even touching you.” It was true. He hadn’t laid a finger on her, instead caging her in with his large frame against the shelves. 

“You know what I mean.”

“What’s the rush? We’ve got loads of time to do the jobs we need to do today.”

“Yes, but I’d like to finish them sooner rather than later.” Her cheeks were flushed. “Now let me go.”

“No.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What is up with you today?”

“What was up with you yesterday?” he bit back. He was pissed off about her pretending to be innocent and also about the Adrian thing - he had no right to be possessive over but that didn't change the way he felt when he'd walked in on them. 

At this, her face went full crimson. He tried to hold back his smug smile. 

“What are you talking about?”

He edged slightly closer to her, though there was still a considerable distance between their faces and bodies.

“Oh, I think you know  _ exactly _ what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t. Please explain.”

“Come on Granger. You’re a smart witch. What were you doing last night?”

She fiddled with her ear nervously. “Uh- I went to the library in the evening and then I had a shower and went to bed. What’s it to you?”

“Is that the whole truth?”

“Yes.” It was a sharp, twisted lie and they both knew it.

He hummed, and let his gaze wander over her. “I’m not letting you go until you tell me the truth.”

She huffed. “You’re not my dad. I’m telling the truth and I want you to let me go.” Her eyes met his. “Now.”

“No. I want you to confess.”

“I mean it - I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

For a second, he faltered. What if it had been someone else he’d seen? What if she truly didn’t know what he was talking about. But no - it  _ had  _ to have been her. He wasn’t wrong - he just needed her to confess it...but how? 

Stubborn witch. 

He needed to think fast - and without much thought, his hand grabbed onto her waist. He didn’t look her in the eyes as he did it, instead of focusing on where his hand met the blue cloth of her clothes. Focused, he slipped his thumb underneath the fabric and began to draw small circles on her smooth skin. He revelled in the sound of her sharp intake of breath - it was so new to him - the effect he had on her. In everything else she seemed so controlled, so powerful. But she felt so soft under his ministrations.

“What are you doing?” her voice was wobbly, and he sensed her shock at their current situation.

“Tell me the truth and I’ll stop.”

“Malfoy.” Her voice was a warning but he sensed weakness. His thumb continued its circles and he didn’t miss the way her thighs squeezed together. Could Adrian make her feel like this? No. Of course, he couldn't. 

“Just tell me the truth.” he was getting frustrated - why couldn’t she just admit it? What was so hard about it?

“I am.”

Liar.

Frustrated, he slammed her body forcefully against the shelves, planting his hands against the sides of her head, trapping her beneath him, until there was no space between them. 

“God damn it, Granger, I know you’re lying.”

She let out a weak sound. Then she grit her teeth together. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Her voice was venom. “Fine, I saw you yesterday making out with a girl in a room. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He didn’t pull back, his hands on either side of her head, his gaze intense on hers.

“How much did you see?”

She stared defiantly at him. “Not much.”

“ _ What. Did. You. See? _ ”

She looked away and pursed her lips.

“Tell me. And I'll know if you’re lying. You know about my occlumency skills.”

She let out a breath. “It was wrong and you’re right to be angry. I saw-” she gulped. “I saw you talking to her at first and decided to say. Yes, I know, that was wrong. You seemed pretty angry and then- well then you kissed her.”

“And then?” His mouth twisted into a cruel smirk.

She bit her lip nervously. “Well, then I guess you were making out uh - quite a lot. And she told you she was inexperienced.”

“Mhm.”

“And uh that’s when I left. It didn’t feel right.”

“So it felt right all those moments you did watch us?”

“No.”

“Then why did you stay?”

She looked away. “I don’t want to lie to you, but I don’t exactly want to answer either.”

* * *

Hermione was panicking and she knew Draco could feel it. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she felt sweat on the back of her neck. She couldn’t lie to him with him so close and she knew if she did lie, he would know. But she couldn’t just  _ tell the truth.  _

Draco brought a hand to her jaw and twisted her face so she looked at him. “Look at me.”

“I am,” she squeaked. 

“Why did you stay?” His voice was rough, demanding. 

She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. 

“I-I’m so ashamed.” 

He softened a bit at that, much to Hermione’s joy. He bought both his hands to softly cup her face and she felt the touch everywhere. How could he be so rough one second and then gentle? “Come on, Granger, you can tell me.” He was coaxing the answer out of her and she was powerless to resist the magic of his voice, his words, his gentleness. 

She closed her eyes. “I was turned on by it. By how you were kissing her and the things you were saying. I stayed because it turned me on, okay?”

With the look of pure shock in his eyes she knew he hadn’t been expecting it. Maybe now he’d leave her alone - now that he knew how absolutely filthy she was. The sounds of their collective breathing filled the space...he didn’t know what to say and it neither did she. 

Not speaking, he bought one of his hands to her waist, lightly skimming the side of her body. She trembled, feeling his feather light touch raise goosebumps on her skin. She could still feel his other hand placed against her jaw, his thumb almost brushing her mouth.

“Are you turned on right now?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

She gulped nervously. What was he playing at? What was the right answer?

“Answer me.”

“Well yes, I’m turned on right now. You’ve got me pushed up against a shelf with your hands all over me - what did you expect?” She avoided his eyes, looking down instead at his hand on her waist. “And I  _ know _ it's terrible because we’re supposed to just be friends and I know you don’t want me but-”

His thumb pressed against her mouth. 

“Shhhhh.” A pause as she quieted. “Who said I didn’t want you?”

She was so confused - so confused, this was everything he said he didn’t want. She didn’t have time to even question it further when he pushed his thumb against her mouth. Instinctively, she parted her lips, accepting him into her mouth. His eyes widened with surprise.

_ I guess now he knows I’m not a prude.  _ She closed her mouth around his thumb and sucked lightly, looking up at him through her lashes. The effect it had on him - the pure look of desire and hunger in his eyes - it made the power rush to her head. It also sent desire pumping through her own veins - her head was beginning to become clouded by her need for him. She had never felt like this with someone before - like every touch would set her on fire, like she would pass out if he didn’t take her right then and claim her. 

“Shit, Granger. You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was rough, beautiful. She could listen to him speak forever. 

“Kiss me,” she breathed out, her voice needy and desperate.

A soft noise. “No.”

Her mind emptied as he brought his mouth to her ear and  _ licked  _ it. A shiver ran through her. Her hands were still laid against the shelves, her arms down right by her side. As she bought them up to tangle in his hair, some part of her told her this was an absolutely terrible idea - but she couldn’t think straight with the smell of his cologne fogging up her senses. 

"You're right, you _are_ very sensitive."

His mouth traced to below her jaw and then back up to her forehead, small kisses peppered on her nose and cheeks and under her eyes. His hand was around her throat, the gentle press of his large fingers on such a sensitive spot had her dizzy. 

“I can’t think.”

“I know.” he murmured sympathetically, as he brushed his lips teasingly along her throat. She was trembling with each touch, taking her higher and higher. Then he was biting, sucking, licking all over her neck. Her hands were in his hair. She felt fucking fantastic. How had they ended up like this again? 

“Tell me to stop.” his breath was ragged.

She didn’t answer, instead just whimpering softly.

The sound seemed to only spur him on. “You shouldn’t have been watching me. It was an invasion of privacy.” His voice was pure fury. “Tell me you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed out. How could she deny him when the feeling of his mouth on her skin felt that good? He was intoxicating and she was drunk on his kisses. 

His fingers squeezed gently around her throat and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her. At the sound, his head snapped up towards her, his eyes blown wide in awe. 

His right hand went under her skirt, and his fingers brushed against the cloth of her underwear. Pleasure hissed through her. 

He grinned wickedly and touched her through the thin cloth. She leaned against him. “Please.”

“Beg.”

“ _ Please  _ touch me Malfoy. Please.”

He slid her knickers down and pressed his fingers against her heat. She groaned loudly. The sound only seemed to rile him up more - right then, he made his decision. 

“You’re going to be quiet while I do this. And if you make a sound, I mean it Granger, I  _ will _ stop.”

She couldn’t do anything but nod. “Good girl. And don’t worry, I won’t kiss you.”

Instead, he placed his mouth on her neck and continued to suck. She whimpered.

“Not a sound, Granger,'' he said as he slowly traced her core with his fingers, gathering her wetness. 

“Oh my. Is this all for me?” 

Embarrassment tinged through her but she didn’t make a sound, struggling. She wanted to moan so bad. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” she breathed out. 

“Good girl,” he said and she practically buckled at the sound of him saying that to her. And he’d noticed it. 

“You like it when I call you that?” 

She nodded.

“Good girl, Granger. You’re so good for me. So wet, just aching for my cock to fill you.” He trailed his fingers down her clit. “You’re  _ my  _ good girl.” Two fingers entered her dripping aching core and she gasped.

“Your cunt is so perfect. So tight.”

He curled his fingers upwards and an obscene moan escaped her. 

“I said, not a sound.” 

She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically. 

“Sorry,” she mouthed. 

He moved his fingers again, hitting that same sweet spot that had her trembling beneath him. Fingers still pumping inside of her, he grabbed her neck and bought her closer. His tongue traced the curve of her ear, the slope of her neck, the line of her collarbones. She could feel her breaths becoming more erratic, how her legs were shaking. Pleasure rolled through with each lick of his tongue, with each pump of his fingers, relentless. Everything seemed drowned out, her eyes were closed, and the intense feeling tingled through her entire body. She burned - she needed to come. “Malfoy pl-”    
The words died on her lips as they both heard a large noise come from the left. They paused, his fingers still in her and her knickers still around her legs. 

“Shit,” he said and then he was removing himself from her, pulling up her knickers for her.   
She adjusted her skirt, brushed her fingers through her hair. Draco picked up a book from the shelf and began to flip through it and she did the same. The footsteps came closer - she couldn’t bear it. She really hoped whoever it was passed by them so they wouldn’t be caught with their guilty faces and flushed faces - it would be obvious to anyone what they had been doing. She held her breath. 

“Hermione?” A voice.

They both froze, blood turning cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i hope you re-read the last chapter before you read this one!! 
> 
> also holy...this is my first time ever writing something kinda smutty...but i really enjoyed it!! i'm so sorry it took so long to update but this chapter is much longer than usual and took a lot of work to get it flowing right...let me know what you thought!! (and who do you think caught them in the library...)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first dramoine fic - so i'm pretty inexperienced. It'd mean a lot if you commented/left kudos as it really motivates me to keep writing. The second chapter will be up soon (probably tomorrow!)


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